


Shelter

by WaterChickens



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2018 Winter Olympics, Alternate Universe - Olympics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Ice Skating, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2019-08-17 09:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16513598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterChickens/pseuds/WaterChickens
Summary: For 7 straight years, British figure skater Phil Lester has lost to his rinkmate and biggest rival, the (annoyingly hot) Dan Howell.Until he didn't.After an unprecedented victory at the European Championships over Dan, Phil has found himself squarely in the path of Dan's wrath.Now facing the biggest competition of their lives, the Olympics, both skaters will go head to head in what is considered to be figure skating's greatest showdown.Follow Phil on his journey as he seeks to win the coveted gold medal, and maybe, just maybe, ends up with a little more than he bargained for.





	1. Run Boy Run

7 hours to go.

Phil Lester glanced at the glaring digital clock perched on the nightstand next to him. 

3:07 A.M. 

He groaned and burrowed into his comforter in an attempt to fall back asleep, but his nerves proved to be too much. At this point, any effort to rest was futile.

With a sigh, he lay on his back and pondered his situation.

Sprawled on a rock-hard mattress in a cold and uncomfortable room, Phil found himself approximately 9000 kilometers away from home. 

Just meters away from him slept Dan Howell: star of the figure skating world, fellow rinkmate, and biggest rival. In a matter of hours, Phil and Dan would go head-to-head in what would be the most anticipated showdown of the figure skating season: The 2018 Winter Olympics Men’s Figure Skating Event.

It didn’t take a genius to find out why Phil was unable to sleep.

Phil’s stomach softly rumbled in fear. Yes, he was nervous right now, but his stress at the moment was nothing compared to what it would be like in a few hours. So, while he still had his sanity, Phil decided to mentally prepare for the first day of competition.

Figure skating competitions are divided into two segments: the short program and the free skate. The short program is the first routine a skater does, and is, as its name suggests, shorter in length than the free skate. The free skate is the longer of the two, and the competitors have more freedom in deciding which elements to incorporate into their routine. 

Skaters are judged based on the difficulty and quality of their jumps, spins, and moves (technical score), but also receive marks for their artistry and presentation (component score). The technical and component scores are added up to produce the score for each program(segment score), and the segment scores are then totaled to yield the final results.

Dan was a technical powerhouse, consistently performing grueling jumps and spins in a precise and controlled manner. The seemingly indefatigable skater had the highest technical score of any competitive skater, and was thus hugely formidable. His ineffable athletic ability had given him the lead over Phil at nearly every competition of their careers.

Contrary to Dan, Phil’s forte was the artistic side of skating. Although clumsy off the ice, Phil exuded grace and poise while skating, and his spins were described by many as ethereal. His signature move was the Biellmann, a spin popular in the ladies’ category, but not so much the men’s. 

But despite his distinctive moves and remarkable artistic ability, Phil had almost always lost to Dan throughout the seven years they competed against each other.

At the beginning, the 14 year old Phil loathed losing to Dan and resolved to do anything in his power to defeat him. No matter what Phil did, how many extra hours he practiced, how many disgusting “health smoothies” he drank, or how many times he hoped Dan would lose, nothing was ever enough. Dan would always win the gold and Phil would always be stuck with second.

Eventually, Phil reluctantly grew to accept his silver medal streak. Earning silver wasn’t horrible, and Phil was still definitely considered one of the top three skaters in the world. Being constantly in second place kept him relevant, but didn’t expose him to the extreme pressure Dan faced from the figure skating world.

But no matter what he told himself, Phil had always wanted to come out from behind Dan’s shadow. He was tired of Dan always being in the spotlight. Everyone obviously loved Dan more. It was Dan who had all the endorsements, was featured on all the posters, and who had hordes of screaming fans bombarding him at competitions. (Not that Phil wanted to be stalked or anything, but it was the principle of the damn thing.) Even their coach preferred Dan! Dan always received an exorbitant amount of praise for everything, while Phil only got indifference or nagging.

Phil huffed in indignance, momentarily forgetting that he was sharing a room with Dan.

Dan heard Phil and groaned.

“Could you shut up? Some of us are trying to sleep, mate,” Dan grumbled angrily.

“Sorry!” Phil whispered.

Phil shrank back in his bed. The brown-haired skater was not only intimidating on the ice, but off ice as well. And to make matters quite worse, it was no secret that Dan hated Phil. 

Dan hadn’t always hated Phil. In fact, he didn’t even start hating Phil until a few months prior to the Olympics.

The enmity began at the Grand Prix Finals. For the first time ever, Phil had taken the lead over Dan in the short program. And though Dan ultimately ended up winning the competition, the small defeat still surprised him, and he reacted by becoming colder towards Phil. Now that was all tolerable, and frankly Phil expected it to happen. 

But what he could never have prepared for were the subsequent European Championships.

The European Championships happened about one month prior to the Olympics. It was a sort of practice run for the Olympics, and as usual, Dan was the favorite for the competition. It should have been a cinch for Dan, really. But somehow the universe compelled Dan to make an uncharacteristic mistake in the free program, leading Phil to the gold. 

In seven years of skating against Dan, it was the first time Phil had defeated him.

And it could not have come at a worse moment. 

Because of the competition’s proximity to the Olympics, Dan began seeing Phil as a veritable threat. Instead of the frigid interactions of before, now all of Dan’s ire was targeted at Phil. 

Not a day would pass that Phil wasn’t shoved, glowered, or jeered at. Dan found every opportunity to make Phil regret his win. During practice, Dan would constantly taunt Phil, rudely pointing out his mistakes, and smirking when he fell. It was beginning to affect his skating, so Phil notified the coach, but the coach scoffed and told Phil to grow up. 

Phil was all alone. Sure, he had the support of his family and fans, but none of them were able to protect Phil from the hate.

The media was eating all of this up, of course. They painted Phil as a disgruntled underdog out to snatch Dan’s title, and Dan as a glorious champion fighting to keep what was rightfully his.

People derived satisfaction from pitting them against each other, and legions of fans flocked to South Korea to watch the two duel it out. Endless promotional posters featured the two and their much anticipated face-off, but deep down, Phil knew Dan would most likely win. After all, Dan had remained undefeated for many years, whereas Phil had only won one out of dozens of competitions against Dan. Dan held every single world record, and although Phil came close to breaking those, he still always came up short.

Phil anxiously looked at the clock.

3:58 A.M. 

6 hours to go.


	2. Don't Look Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of competition arrives, and Dan and Phil face off in the short program.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 of Shelter. It gets exciting.
> 
> Phil skates to 'Imitation Game Theme' and Dan to 'Uprising' by Muse. I'd recommend listening to the music while you read bc I wrote the skating scenes/ program with them in mind.  
> Also they're just great pieces of music.
> 
> Chapter title from 'Don't Look Down' by Martin Garrix (one of my favorite songs)

3 hours to go.

It was around 7 A.M. now and the two skaters were awake and getting ready. Phil went down to get some food, but he was too terrified to eat. His hands were shaking and he was so nervous he could cry.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t think about faking sick. Staying tucked in his bed hiding away sounded miles more appealing than being paralyzed with fear, skating on blades 4 millimeters thick and having his every stroke on the ice scrutinized by the world. 

But the regret of missing the Olympics would be something he’d carry for the rest of his life. If he skipped out, he’d disappoint his fans, his family, and himself. It would be as if the arduous hours of practice and endless sacrifices were for nothing. And to Phil, that was even more terrifying than belly flopping on the ice in front of everyone.

He knew what he had to do.

Phil bustled around the room, trying to get his costume ironed and his skates ready, but he was running late and he was just so scared because everyone was about to see him mess up and Dan hated him and everyone hated him and he couldn’t do this oh my god and he really just wanted his mom there.

He accidentally burnt himself with the iron and yelped loudly. This caught Dan’s attention, and he looked up and saw the panicked Phil twitching in fear and pain, eyes comically wide. Dan opened his mouth to say something, but when he saw how fragile Phil looked, he just closed his mouth and turned away.

Phil was baffled. Dan never passed up an opportunity to be a jerk, so what was stopping him now?  
*****

45 minutes to go.

To say Phil was terrified was an understatement. The lights in the arena were blinding, and everywhere he went he heard the excited chatter of fans.

“I can’t believe Dan was beaten by Phil!”

“I’m so excited! I can’t wait!”

“This competition is gonna be insane!”

It all increased his anxiety thousandfold. He was scared out of his wits when he and Dan were alone in the dorm room, but walking through enthusiastic masses of people was horrifying. All these people traveled thousands of miles to watch the event, and in a few hours, they’d be watching him.

Phil went to find somewhere quiet in an attempt to quell his racing heart. As he passed, he heard some cheering.

“Phil!” someone screamed.

He gulped. Interacting with people was one of the worst things he could do in this state of mind.

But he noticed the Phil banner she was holding and felt guilty. Maybe she traveled all the way here for him- the least he could do was acknowledge her.

“Hello!” he walked over to her, smiling, and took some pictures with her.

“You’re going to be amazing out there! Give Dan a run for his money!” she enthused.

“Thanks. I hope,” he chuckled nervously. The fan gave him a hug and he was on his way once again. It calmed him down a tiny bit, knowing that at least some people here were on his side. 

He made his way backstage, where he and Dan would be waiting for a few hours, since they were scheduled to perform at the very end of the competition.

There was a TV there, so they could receive updates on the other competitors. Phil began to stretch and put in his earbuds to listen to his program music.

For the short program, he would be skating to the theme song from the movie ‘The Imitation Game’ starring the legendary Benedict Cumberbatch. The piece, although a stark departure from the usual cheerful music he skated to, was dear to him. It was beautiful, and showcased a mature side to him that he found had begun to show itself this past year.

But what made it even more special was that he choreographed it himself, instead of having someone do it for him. He put ample love into this program. This program was his baby.

He continued stretching and finally found himself relaxing. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.  
*****

Correction: This was VERY BAD.

Now most of the skaters had gone and there was only him, Dan, and one other skater left. Phil was hyperventilating.

He was currently curled up in a little ball by the wall, hugging his knees. He teared up and his stomach was in knots. He trembled in fear and desperately wished to be anywhere but there. 

Eventually it was just him and Dan. It was Dan’s turn now.

Dan sauntered over to where Phil was and slapped him sharply on the back. Phil couldn’t tell whether it was an encouraging or malicious gesture. But before he could ask, Dan was gone. 

By now, Phil knew no amount of curling in on himself would relax him. And to be honest, Phil was probably a masochist because instead of tuning out the competition and focusing, he chose to watch Dan instead.

And no, it wasn’t because Dan looked stunning in tight black pants, a black button-down dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and his hair in a quiff. 

Phil blushed. Despite his enmity with Dan, he had to admit the skater was handsome. 

Dan’s fans must think so too, because as soon as Dan walked out, a raucous roar went up in the crowd.

“Up next, representing Great Britain, one of the most anticipated acts of today’s event, Dan Howell, skating to ‘Uprising’ by Muse!” stated the TV commentators.

“After his shocking defeat at the European Championships, you can bet Dan will be pulling out all the stops today. Luckily for him, this program is a crowd-pleaser, and although Muse is an unconventional music choice, he has received very high scores this season.”

Dan made his way to the center of the ice, his arms in their starting position. He looked extremely relaxed, which Phil envied.

The music started, and Dan was off.

The instant Dan started skating, Phil realized he was screwed. Oh, so screwed.

Every move Dan made was purposeful and solid. Dan had always been a powerful skater, but his skating that day showed remarkable improvement from his other performances that season. Phil could tell Dan had spent countless hours perfecting it. 

He began with a flying camel spin and then leaped into a flawless quadruple salchow. 

Every second had meaning, and although rock music was a weird choice for skating, Dan executed it perfectly. The program was superbly choreographed and Dan’s body movements were fierce and aggressive, which was more than fitting for the song. It seemed like Dan was skating angrily, taking his frustration from his recent defeat and transplanting it into the program. 

Dan glided across the ice as lightly as a feather, but moved with ineffable intensity. It was as if the music was made for Dan to skate to. 

Dan performed a sit spin-pancake spin combo,soon followed by an incredible triple axel, which received full marks for execution.

The program was musical, entertaining, and dare Phil say, sexy. Dan was great at skating to softer music as well, but this music just brought out another side to him. A rugged, edgy side.

Dan’s next jump was a quadruple toe-triple toe combo. The audience gasped in awe as he exploded off the ice. Those were his last jumps, and now came his step sequence.

Although Dan’s jumps were amazing, his step sequence was even better. Dan’s lithe body moved agilely around the ice in a serpentine pattern, replete with extremely challenging body movements. He segued into a spread eagle, did some twizzles, and began skating towards the center of the ice to finish off his program.

He did a camel spin, which turned into a catch-foot sit spin, a shotgun spin, and finally a corkscrew spin. 

The audience went absolutely berserk. Phil’s heart stopped. He knew he was done for. 

Dan took a bow, smirk plastered on his crimson face. The skater stood revelling in the applause, then skated around, picking up the assortment of stuffed animals his fans threw at him. Arms laden with Winnie the Pooh plushes, Dan went off the ice and to the Kiss and Cry, the area where skaters receive their scores.

Dan’s departure from the ice signalled Phil to begin making his way on the ice, to allow for a tiny bit of warm up before Dan’s scores were announced and it was really Phil’s turn. But instead of skating around the ice to ease some of the tension in his limbs, Phil looked up to the Jumbotron above the ice, which currently showed Dan in the Kiss and Cry.

Phil watched it all. Dan’s smug facial expression as he waited for his score, their coach waiting expectantly, and finally the uproar in the crowd when the score was announced.

“Dan Howell has earned a score of 112.43 in the short program! He is currently in first place!”

 

Dan had earned a technical score of 64.17 and a component score of 48.55, propelling him into first place with a program score of 112.43.

112.43. That was the highest short program score in history. Dan had broken a world record. Of course, Dan wasn’t fazed by this. He had broken a legion of world records during his lucrative career, and this would merely add one more to his collection.

But soon the commotion died down, and all eyes were on Phil. It was his turn.

“Last on the ice, also representing Great Britain, Phil Lester,skating to the theme song from ‘The Imitation Game’!” 

The crowd cheered, but Phil felt like dying.

All his friends, family, and hundreds of thousands (if not millions) of people were watching him at this very moment.

From his position on the ice, he couldn’t hear what the TV commentators were saying, but he was almost certain it mentioned the rivalry he and Dan had.

He skated around, preparing himself for what was to come. He took in gulps of air and closed his eyes. 

The music started and he began his skate shakily, still very nervous.

However, as the music went on, he began getting more and more comfortable. He was okay. He could do this. He might not win, but he was here at the freaking Olympics and he was going to enjoy it.

With this newfound confidence, Phil found himself even beginning to have fun while skating, which had never happened before in his life.

He poured everything he had into his choreography, putting as much feeling as he could into his movements. This was his program, made by him, and he would make sure everyone watching could see how special it was.

Feeling lighter than air, Phil jumped his first jump, a triple axel. He was too caught up in the moment to really pay much attention to the jump, but judging by the squeals of the crowd, he figured he’d nailed it.

By now, Phil was on autopilot. He’d tuned out the bright lights, the chill of the rink, and even the audience. 

He’d practiced this program enough times for him to be able to do this, to completely ignore his surroundings and block out everything save the music and the feeling of his skates flying over the ice.

His first spin was a flying camel, which turned into a donut spin and ended in his signature spin, the Biellmann. 

After this, he did an arabesque spiral and started his step sequence.

If you asked most figure skaters, they’d say the hardest part of a program were the jumps, and for good reason. Not only did they take an incredible amount of strength, but landing them was almost down to chance, no matter how much you practiced them. A leg one centimeter out of place or a movement of the blade a second too soon are all it takes for a skater to come crashing down onto the unforgiving ice.

But if you asked Phil, he’d tell you the hardest part of a program was the step sequence. The complicated turns made him dizzy, but he found the greatest challenge was telling a story. It wasn’t as simple as moving to the music, no. A step sequence requires an innate sense of musicality which Phil luckily possessed. He could listen to a piece and easily conjure up a story in his mind- the problem was transmitting it to the audience via a series of tricky moves and turns.

The movie ‘The Imitation Game’, from which came the piece Phil was skating to, tells the story of Alan Turing and his quest to decipher a machine called Enigma which was used by the Nazis to transmit encrypted messages. At the same time, Turing, who was gay, had to navigate a world that was extremely intolerant of his sexuality.

It was a tall order, since Phil couldn’t put himself in Turing’s shoes. But he practiced day and night until he felt capable enough to depict the struggles of Turing’s life through skating.

He spun all around the ice, putting as much emotion as he could into every step. 

He moved quickly yet gracefully, doing twizzle after twizzle, turn after turn, using his whole body. Although his step sequence was highly difficult, he made it look effortless.

He ended the step sequence with a beautiful sit spin combination. 

Now it was the second half of the program, where most of his jumps were situated. He kicked it off with a stunning quadruple toe-triple toe combo, which he had been having trouble with in previous competitions. But not today.

All around the world, spectators marvelled at the incredible height of his jumps. The beginnings of whispers about a possible ousting of Dan began sounding through the crowd.

Phil contorted himself into an Ina Bauer, and launched himself into his final jump, the quadruple salchow. He landed it beautifully.

Now all that was left in the program was his final spin, a sit spin which flowed into a catch-foot spin, and finally, the uber difficult upright Y-spin.

And then it was all over.

The screaming standing ovation of the crowd jerked him out of his trance and he stood gaping like a fish.

To be quite honest, Phil had no idea what just happened. He felt like something had overtaken his body.

Everything was a blur, and Phil couldn’t remember a single thing about the past 2 minutes and 50 seconds.

In fact, the only proof Phil had that he had even skated was the intense ache in his muscles, the beads of sweat dripping down his face, and the almost frantic screams of the audience.

Phil stood there for a few moments, soaking everything in, then skated off the ice. Even off the ice, Phil was trembling, not with fear, but with a mixture of adrenaline and euphoria. This had to have been the greatest skate of his life! 

Phil was fucking glowing. 

He practically ran over to the Kiss and Cry, eager for his score to be announced. This would definitely be a personal best!

 

He impatiently sat in the chair, next to his coach, jittering with nerves and excitement.

Unfortunately for him, however, the judges appeared to be taking their sweet, sweet time with the score.

Phil let out a huff and sat back in his chair to wait, heart pounding. 

After an impossibly long time, the announcer began to speak.

“Phil Lester of Great Britain has earned, in the short program, a score of…

Phil shot forward in his chair in anticipation.

… 113.74! He is currently in first place!”

Phil felt like the wind got knocked out of him.

He… he’d broken a world record. After all these years.

The audience was going nuts now, chanting “Phil! Phil! Phil!” over and over again. 

He sat back in the chair, exhausted, but with a gigantic smile on his face. He wiped away a few happy tears and sighed.

He still couldn’t believe it- he’d beat Dan, and Dan hadn’t even made a mistake! 

And somehow along the way, Phil managed to break the world record Dan had set only minutes before.

Phil turned to look at his coach and the coach nodded at him approvingly (for once). 

Shakily, Phil stood up off the chair and was instantly bombarded with fans and reporters.

It was all very surreal for Phil, and he figured this was what Dan felt like all the time.  
*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it, I hope you enjoyed, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts.
> 
> I'll try to update on Sundays, but I have another chapter written and I'm excited abt it so I might post before then.


	3. Young And Menace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the short program

A few hours later, Phil managed to escape from the throng of people. He was still over the moon and often pinched himself just to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

He got to his room, showered, and collapsed on his bed for a much needed nap- his legs were killing him. 

After dozing for a bit, he awoke to find Dan sitting across the room on his bed, stewing.

Phil’s stomach dropped. He’d been so wrapped up in the glory of his short program victory that he neglected to think about how much Dan would hate him now.

They made eye contact and Dan sent Phil a spine-tingling, absolutely vile glare, then angrily got up and left the room, slamming the door as he did so.

Uh oh…

This was the most furious that Phil had seen Dan. Ever.

He was genuinely scared.

Had Phil seen this coming? Yes, but not to the extent that it did. Dan had gotten angry the few times he lost, but never as angry as this. Never to the point of being unable to even be in the same room as Phil.

It was understandable. This was the Olympics, something both skaters had looked forward to their whole lives. Phil empathized, guessing how rotten it must feel to get gold after gold for seven years, then start to falter the moment it mattered the most. 

But Phil didn’t control the judges, and he definitely wasn’t in charge of the scores. None of this was his fault. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a furious Dan barreling his way into their room once again.

Phil watched with wide eyes as Dan began striding towards him, each step dripping with menace. 

Phil stood up and slowly walked away from him, trying to exit the room, but Dan was too fast. He latched onto Phil’s shirt collar and backed him up against the wall.

Dan leaned in close. Way too close. Phil looked into his eyes, the normally warm brown eyes now murky with anger. 

Dan tilted his head and put his mouth dangerously close to Phil’s ear.

“Listen carefully, asshole. You may have barely beat me today, but you know damn well that the gold medal is mine. I have worked way, way too hard to have my medal stolen by some incompetent, uncoordinated, wimpy idiot such as yourself. Have I made myself clear?”

Phil attempted to shove Dan off of him, but his rival stood steadfast. 

Shit. He was trapped.

Dan stayed pressed up against Phil, his angry breaths fanning Phil’s face.

Dan leaned in even further, until their foreheads were touching. 

“...Dan?!” Phil choked. He didn’t know what to do. His mind was blank.

A knock sounded at the door.

Dan gasped and shoved Phil away from him, then answered the door. Their coach stood on the other side.

“Uh, hello Coach Jim,” Dan mumbled to their coach.

“Hello boys. Get dressed and come down to the lobby in ten minutes. We’re going out to dinner.”

“O-okay,” stammered Dan.

Coach Jim looked puzzled.

“Dan, are you alright? Your face is all red,” Jim said, then glanced at Phil. 

“Phil? Your face is flushed too. What were you two doing?”

“Nothing! Um, we’ll be right down!” Dan said.

The coach narrowed his eyes at the pair, then shrugged and left the room.

Dan grabbed a jacket and practically ran out of the room, leaving Phil alone.

Phil groaned. What the hell had just happened?

He rooted around the room in search of an outfit to wear. As tempted as he was to go out to eat in his ratty sweatpants and t-shirt, he knew he’d get an earful from his coach (and also freeze to death).

He settled on a pair of black skinny jeans and a sweater with foxes on it, then donned a winter jacket on top of that to combat the cold.

He grabbed his phone and made his way down to the lobby of the Olympic Village. He reached the lobby and saw his coach and Dan waiting for him. Phil met up with them and the three walked outside to catch a cab.

They managed to hail one. Coach Jim went and sat in the front, leaving Dan and Phil sitting in the back.

The car ride was completely silent, giving Phil an opportunity to reflect on the earlier events of the evening.

Phil silently fumed.

How dare he! Dan has lost a competition to Phil a grand total of once in his career, and now that Phil is starting to succeed, he throws a fit?

For seven years Phil has constantly stood in Dan’s shadow, good but not good enough, watching as Dan gets showered with praise and money. Phil didn’t like losing, but he always treated Dan with respect. 

And now that Phil is starting to match Dan in skill, Dan totally loses his mind. 

At that moment, Phil wanted nothing more than to defeat Dan at the Olympics. He wanted to see Dan’s face crumple when the scores were announced, he wanted to feel the joy of being superior to Dan, but most importantly, he wanted to hurt Dan where it would hurt the most.

Phil knew perfectly well that he was an awful person for thinking this, but enough is enough. He was sick of always being inferior to Dan and getting attacked the few times he wasn’t.

He quietly seethed until the cab pulled up to the restaurant, a cozy establishment which resembled a log cabin.

The trio stepped out into the icy air and scrambled inside the eatery.

A waitress escorted them to their table and handed them menus. Phil stared at it. He was too peeved to eat, but he didn’t want to starve. He decided on a salad. Dan did the same.

Their waitress collected the menus, leaving Coach Jim, Dan, and Phil awkwardly staring at each other.

“...So lads, you did a great job today…” Jim said.

“Thanks,” replied Phil. Dan remained silent, angrily tapping away on his iPhone.

Faced with nothing better to do, Phil and his coach engaged in small talk. It was horribly uncomfortable at first, but Phil soon found himself enjoying talking to his coach now that the spotlight wasn’t on Dan.

Eventually, their food came, and Phil and his coach tucked in. Dan, however, refused to touch his food.

“Come on Dan, eat your food. You need all your energy for the free skate tomorrow…” chided Jim.

Dan huffed and grumbled an unintelligible response, but still did not eat. 

Phil rolled his eyes. Dan was acting like a petulant five year old. 

He so badly yearned to say something, to gloat and ask Dan how it felt to lose.

He bit his tongue, however. He didn’t want to stoop to Dan’s level and cause even more strife. 

Plus, given that he’d known Dan since childhood, Phil still held the smallest shred of compassion for him. No matter how angry he was at Dan and how badly he wanted to take the victory, Phil wasn’t truly capable of rubbing in Dan’s loss like that. Dan was at his most vulnerable right now, and hurting him further would only worsen the situation.

Phil’s coach paid the bill and the three left the restaurant, leaving Dan’s salad still sitting on the table, completely untouched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Sorry I didn't update on time,I've been v busy with school. Thankfully, I don't have school next week so I will have lots of time to write.


	4. A Moment Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the free skate! Who will be crowned the 2018 Olympic Men's Figure Skating champion?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys I'm coming right back at ya with another chapter, I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Dan is skating to Danse Macabre by Camille Saint-Saens and Phil to Shelter-Ghibli Orchestral Edition. Again, I recommend you listen to these as the music, especially Phil's music, is important to the chapter and story.

Beep.Beep.Beep.Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP.

Phil groaned and harshly slapped the ‘off’ button on the alarm. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and attempted to stretch out the knots that had developed in his neck and back. Quite honestly, he felt like he’d been hit by a truck in his sleep.

The bitterly cold winter air permeated the room and Phil could sense the beginnings of a cold coming on. He fruitlessly searched for a box of tissues, but to no avail.

“How the fuck are there no tissues in here?” he spat. Dan widened his eyes upon hearing Phil swear for the first time.

Without a word, each man got up and began getting ready. Dan hopped in the shower first, giving Phil time to think.

Phil was still furious at Dan and dead-set on winning. The night’s sleep had done nothing to quell Phil’s ire; it merely transformed it. The boiling anger from last night was now simmering indignation, a bit more subdued but still at the forefront of his mind.

Dan emerged a whopping twenty minutes later. Phil’s eye twitched. That moron would make them both late! However, seeing towel-clad Dan shivering like a chihuahua made the corners of his mouth turn up in a small smile. 

Phil stalked to the bathroom and walked in, but something felt off. His socks were moist. He glanced down at the bathroom floor, only to see that Dan had practically flooded it. 

Phil’s quiet anger crescendoed. Was Dan too incompetent to dry off the floor? Phil turned to open the door and yell at Dan but stopped himself. Fighting would just screw up this stressful day even more. Instead, he elected to close his eyes and count to ten. He took a deep breath, stripped, and stepped in the shower. The steaming water helped soothe his nerves and temper tenfold. He could finally begin to feel himself relaxing and the tension evaporating. He now felt confidence and determination start to blossom, replacing the negative emotions. He was glad that his mind was now clear enough to focus on the day’s free skate.

He turned off the shower and stepped out feeling much better than before. On his bed lay the outfit he’d be wearing for the free skate, black pants and a blue dress shirt with black hearts on it. He’d gotten a few...comments about it, but he didn’t care. It fit his music.

He’d be skating to the Ghibli Orchestra version of “Shelter” by Porter Robinson and Madeon. It was a beautiful piece of music, and it had earned him good scores this season. He only hoped it would be enough to earn him the gold.

Beating Dan would be tough. Not that it wasn’t always tough, but even more so today. After Dan’s defeat at the European Championships, the disgruntled skater completely reworked his free skate, planning an unprecedented six quadruple jumps.

Phil only had four quadruple jumps in this program, so Dan’s technical score would be miles above Phil’s. Therefore, Phil would need an exceptionally high artistry score to bring him the win.

It would be difficult, but it could be done.

Phil knew his program resonated with the audience, and he’d even seen a few tears shed by fans in previous competitions. Not all hope was lost.

*****

Dan and Phil walked silently to the Olympic Village cafeteria for one quick meal before the free skate.

“This is it,” thought Phil to himself as he nervously nibbled on a banana, realizing with mild horror that this would be his last meal before he either won the gold or lost to Dan yet again.

When he first found out he’d qualified for the Olys, Phil had expected to bring home the silver or bronze. Yes, ideally he’d get gold, but in his mind, Dan was untouchable.

But now after gaining the lead over Dan a few times, Phil’s life dream of winning an Olympic gold medal became all the more attainable. And after Dan’s tantrum the other night, Phil wasn’t too sure Dan deserved to be handed the gold medal that easily. If Phil went down, he would make sure he didn’t go down without a fight. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous.

*****  
The competition was well underway now and nearing the end. Dan, Phil, and the 4 other remaining skaters had now completed their six minute warm up on the ice and were preparing to skate.

For the free skate, the skating order had changed, and now Phil would be performing before Dan.

Normally, by this point, Phil would be beside himself with fear, but today was different. He was nervous, but he was also almost… excited to skate. He was in the lead after the short program, and therefore the closest to winning. He could do this!

Instead of curling up in a ball like usual, Phil began to socialize with the other skaters. He was currently chatting to PJ Liguori, a witty and charming Italian skater. The two were friends, but Phil hadn’t seen PJ in a long time since they lived in different countries and only saw each other at competitions and skating events. Nevertheless, Phil was glad to see PJ and the easy banter with his friend further relaxed him.

“You seem different today,” PJ told Phil, his head cocked to the side in confusion.

“I don’t know… I guess I just have a good feeling about today,” Phil cracked a smile.

“I wish I could say the same for Dan over there,” said the Italian concernedly. 

Phil glanced over and saw Dan sitting with his head in his hands, their coach trying (and failing) to calm him down.

He’d never seen Dan look so stressed in his life. The normally cocky skater was now a nervous wreck, just like Phil had been the day before. It was as if they switched places- Phil was now the confident one, while Dan was a ball of anxiety.

He debated going over there, but Phil figured that he was likely the person Dan wanted to see the least.

*****

It was Phil’s turn.

Apprehension buzzed in his stomach, but it was manageable. He would be okay. He took a deep breath and skated to the middle of the ice, waiting for his music to start.

The beginning notes of his music thrummed and Phil began moving as gracefully as humanly possible. He’d have to get ungodly artistic scores if he wanted to conquer Dan and his quadruple jumps.

The best thing about the music, in Phil’s opinion, was how moving it was. Phil had discovered it on accident while on a late night Youtube binge, and from the first time he heard it, he knew he had to skate to it.

His coach was skeptical at first, saying it was too girly, but the music had grown on him— it had grown on everyone.

Phil even caught Dan listening to it on his phone a few times— not that Dan would ever admit to it.

“Dan? Dan! Are you listening to my free skate music?” Phil remembered laughingly accusing Dan the first time he’d caught him.

Dan blushed fifty shades of red before scowling and emphatically claiming that “No, I will never listen to your fairy princess bullshit, you twat!” Grinning at the memory, Phil leapt into his first jump, a quadruple loop.

Memories kept pouring in for Phil as he skated.

His first time stepping on the ice at the age of 3, and how he’d fallen flat on his ass and cried.

His first time winning a gold medal when he was 6, (he’d also cried, sue him).

The first jump he landed.

The first time he’d flown on a plane, on his way to compete in Austria. 

All these memories flooded Phil while he skated, and he came to the realization that for the longest time, he’d been so disappointed about consistently losing to Dan that he lost focus of what truly mattered— skating. He was so crazed about winning that he, for the most part, had ignored all the amazing things he’d experienced because of skating. He was always bitter, regarding his whole career with regret, when really he should’ve been enjoying it. 

Phil couldn’t believe he realized this in the middle of the free skate at the Olympics. He rolled his eyes at his awful timing but didn’t let that deter him.

The quadruple salchow, his favorite jump, was up next. It was the first quadruple jump he’d learned, so it held a special place in his heart. Luckily, he landed it beautifully.

Having two quadruple jumps in such close proximity to each other exhausted him, but Phil paid no mind. Who knew if he would even get to go to another Olympics after this? He pushed all thoughts of fatigue out of his mind and leapt into his first spin, a flying camel-donut spin combination. Next, he lowered his body and performed a broken leg sit spin which ended in his trademark Biellmann.

Up next came his step sequence. Phil would have to pull out all the stops here. He’d have to somehow take the significance this music had to him and transmit it to everyone watching, whether it was there in South Korea or at home on their TVs. 

Phil’s music, ‘Shelter’, tells a story of loneliness and loss, and how love can overcome those feelings and turn them into hope. It was a beautiful message, and it resonated with Phil because he lived a lonely life. He lived and trained in London, away from his family. Skating took up most of his day, leaving him with no time for friends. He was constantly traveling, preventing him from having any pets (other than quite a few wilted houseplants, if those count). And Dan, who did spend a lot of time with Phil due to skating, hated him.

Phil’s routine was wake up, go to the ice rink, come home, and go to sleep. That was it. No time for socializing, and certainly no time for romance. 

‘Shelter’, however, filled Phil with hope. Maybe someday even he could find love. So although Phil wasn’t too experienced in the love department, he skated with hope.

Hope that one day he could meet someone who was his shelter. Someone who took his loneliness away and filled him with passion and aspiration for the future.

Or, Phil thought, maybe he’d already met that person and just didn’t know it.

The music began to build, telling Phil it was time to end the step sequence and perform his next element, the triple flip. He landed it and continued skating, mentally preparing himself for the next jump combination, a quadruple salchow- triple toeloop combo. It was a hefty combination, but more importantly, it had to be timed expertly since it was planned at the climax of the music.

The song crescendoed. Phil took a deep breath and began his entrance into the jump. Right at the peak of the music Phil launched himself into the air, arms crossed over his chest. He completed the four revolutions in the salchow and as soon as his skate touched the ice, he launched up in the air again to perform the toeloop.

By now, Phil was thoroughly exhausted, but he knew he had to go on. He mustered up enough energy for a quadruple toeloop.

Phil sighed in relief. Now all his quadruple jumps were completed. However, he still had three jumping passes left. 

Phil had another jumping combination now, a triple axel-double toeloop. The axel was his least favorite jump. It was highly difficult, since it requires a skater taking off from a forward skating position and landing in a backward position. This change of direction means skaters have to complete an extra half turn in the air. So instead of a triple axel, it’s more of a triple and a half axel. Luckily, Phil was able to complete the combination.

The music began to slow, and Phil knew that the end of the program was approaching. He was thankful for this, but his legs were killing him and he still had two jumping passes left. And one was a combination with three jumps. 

Phil began praying to anyone who was listening. God, Zeus, Obama, or anyone who could let him get through this program.

Gathering the scarce amount of strength he had, Phil jumped the triple axel-loop-triple salchow combination. He thanked the figure skating Gods that he only had one jump left now.

The next element in his program was a spin, a sit-spin pancake spin combo. 

After the spin was a choreographic sequence, which was similar to the step sequence. Although he was panting heavily at this point, he made sure the choreographic sequence was powerful and emotive. To top it off, he ended the sequence with an Ina Bauer.

Now it was time for his last jump, a challenging triple lutz. He was skating on extremely tired legs so the landing was a bit hesitant, but it received positive marks.

He skated to the center of the ice for his final spin. With the last goddamned iota of strength he possessed, Phil spun a camel spin, transitioned into a sit spin, and as the final notes of the music sounded, finished it off with the best corkscrew spin he had ever done.

Phil sank to his knees in mental and physical exhaustion. His breathing was ragged and his legs ached like never before, but he’d done it! He’d skated two beautiful, flawless programs. 

Tears poured down Phil’s cheeks. Over a decade of backbreaking work led to this moment- Phil on Olympic ice after skating perfectly, surrounded by thousands of fans giving him a standing ovation. None of Phil’s past daydreams even came close to how it felt in real life.

Legs trembling, Phil stood up and bowed. The audience screamed even louder.

“PHIL! PHIL! PHIL!”

He collected a few of the plushes fans threw at him, one being an adorable lion. He cradled it in his arms like a baby and skated off the ice.

His coach enveloped him in a hug. 

“Phil! That was flawless!” Coach Jim choked, voice full of emotion.

Phil’s eyes widened. His free skate had almost caused his stern coach to cry? 

He couldn’t believe it!

They both sat in the Kiss and Cry. Everyone knew Phil would get an astronomical score, but the anticipation was still there. 

The air was abuzz with energy, everyone eager to watch history being made.

The announcer came on the loudspeaker.

“Phil Lester from Great Britain has earned, in the free skate, a score of 223.20. He is currently in first place.”

It was as if the world stopped moving. He hadn’t just broken the old world record free skate score- he’d absolutely demolished it!

Phil didn’t know what else to do but bawl at that point. He’d come to the Olympics expecting a bitter defeat, but ended up breaking all kinds of world records. This was a childhood dream come true.

He tried (and failed) to wipe away his tears as he went backstage. Hordes of people surrounded him, congratulating him on his spectacular performance. But despite how happy he was, nervousness still fluttered in his stomach.

Phil hadn’t won- not yet, since Dan still had to perform. Dan wouldn’t let his gold medal slip away that easily.

But no matter what happened during Dan’s performance, Phil would be okay. It would sting to lose after two flawless skates, but Phil knew he could deal with it. After all, Phil had broken 3 world records- the short program, the free skate, and the combined total. And no one, not even Dan, could take that away from him.

After performing, skaters wait in something called the Green Room. The Green Room is an area where skaters rest after skating, and it is equipped with televisions so they can watch the remaining competitors.

Phil stepped into the Green Room and was met with chaos.

“PHIL!” his fellow skaters all screamed and bombarded him with hugs.

“You did so amazing!” screeched an American skater named Tyler.

“Thank you guys,” Phil laughed and hugged the other competitors.

“Phil. I don’t want to stir anything up, but… I think you might actually win today,” said PJ, quietly.

“Shut up guys! Look! Dan’s about to skate!” barked Felix, a skater from Sweden. 

Everyone gathered around the small TV. Phil’s heart pounded in his chest. His friend PJ noticed and patted his back to comfort him.

“Next on the ice, representing Great Britain, Dan Howell! Dan will be skating to Danse Macabre by Camille Saint-Saëns!”

“Damn, he looks nervous,” commented Tyler.

He was right. Dan’s face was etched with anxiety and he was taking deep breaths. The music started, and Dan, still looking scared, began to skate.

At the very beginning of the program, Dan had planned his first jump combination, a quadruple flip- double toeloop combo. However, Dan appeared to let his nerves get the best of him. The landing on the quadruple flip was unsteady, receiving slightly negative marks. 

And the double toeloop? Dan didn’t even attempt it.

“Oh shit,” the skaters collectively gasped.

Phil felt terrible. Sure, Dan was a jerk and Phil may or may not have wished for this earlier, but Dan had still worked tremendously hard over the years. It was difficult to watch the usually confident skater flounder like this.

“Dan. Dan, come on, I know you can do this,” Phil found himself murmuring. The other skaters looked at him in surprise but didn’t say anything.

Somehow, Phil’s message of encouragement seemed to reach Dan through the screen. Dan shook his head as if to dispel the nervous thoughts, and the panic written on his face was replaced with determination.

Dan jumped again, a quadruple flip, but this time added on the double toeloop he missed in the previous jumping pass. The audience sighed in relief as he landed the jumps steadily, receiving positive marks.

Now Dan was relaxed, putting more emotion into his skating. He was not as tense, and Phil could see the program shaping up right before his eyes. There was that minor stumble at the beginning, but that only motivated him more. Phil could tell Dan was determined to compensate for that mistake. It looked like the old Dan was back.

All previous qualms out the window, Dan exploded into a stunning quadruple lutz, which received full marks for execution. It was almost as if Dan’s earlier blunder had never even happened.

Dan floated across the ice and perfectly executed his first spin, a flying catch-foot camel spin.

That spin marked the beginning of Dan’s step sequence. Throughout his career, Dan’s specialty were the jumps- those he could do with ease, but just like for Phil, the step sequence was difficult for him. Phil could recount many a time he’d show up to the rink early in the morning for practice, only to see Dan already there, drilling the turns and steps over and over.

It looked like all that practice paid off, however, since this was the best step sequence Phil had ever seen from Dan. Every step was precise and controlled, and Dan was skating lightly and fluidly, using his whole body.

The music began building up again. Dan jumped a quadruple toeloop which received a high score.

Phil grew increasingly nervous. This skate was remarkable, and as the program went on, Phil saw Dan get closer and closer to defeating him. At this point during a program, Phil would be red-faced and tired, but Dan looked calm as ever, not even a bead of sweat visible.

Dan’s next element was a quadruple toe-triple toe combo, which he executed with ease.

“Fuck, look at the height in those jumps,” mumbled PJ.

He soon followed that up with a powerful quadruple salchow which matched the music seamlessly.

By now the audience wasn’t even loud anymore. They were stunned into silence by the raw talent they were witnessing. Dan had landed all 6 of his quadruple jumps.

The music reached a climax, and Dan unleashed the final weapons in his arsenal. The first was a triple axel, which again, was breathtaking.

The next was an impressive triple flip-loop-triple salchow combination, his most powerful jumping pass. Dan fired off the jumps in quick succession, jumping them almost frantically to keep up with the piercing pulses of the music.

Those were his last jumps, and he began his choreographic sequence. By now, he did look quite tired, but skated strongly nonetheless.

Dan’s program was structured oddly, in that instead of one final spin, Dan had two spin sequences stacked next to each other at the end.

Dan started it off with a flying camel spin, a pancake spin, and a Y-spin, comprising the first spin combination. Then, Dan skated to the center of the ice for the last spin sequence, which was made up of an intricate lattice of spins ending up in a corkscrew spin, just like Phil’s program. 

The music stopped. Everything got so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Then, chaos broke out as the audience snapped out of their stupor and reacted to Dan’s brilliant free program.

Phil and his fellow skaters eyed each other in the Green Room.

“That was just… wow,” breathed Tyler, in awe.

“I don’t know guys, I think it will be really close. It’s hard to tell whose skate was better,” commented PJ.

PJ was right. It was hard to tell. Both Dan and Phil more than exceeded everyone’s expectations. Phil had moved the audience with his beautiful music and awe-inspiring choreography, while Dan amazed everyone with his astonishing stamina and incredible jumps.

Each program was magnificent in its own way, and it felt wrong to rank one above the other. It was, however, a competition, and one skater would have to emerge victorious, a fact Phil feared.

As Dan stepped off the ice, Phil’s anxiety mounted. In just a few moments, Dan’s scores would come in, and the next Olympic champion would be declared.

Those moments waiting for Dan’s scores were the most excruciating moments in Phil’s life. Even the panic he felt right before performing did not hold a candle to what he was feeling right now.

PJ noticed Phil’s agitation and squeezed his hand to comfort him.

Dan was in the Kiss and Cry now, a tired and satisfied smile on his face.

“Dan Howell, representing Great Britain, has earned a score of…”

Phil braced himself.

“... 223.20 in the free skate. He is currently in second place. ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo there you have it! I hope y'all enjoyed. Keep your eyes peeled for chapter 5. :D
> 
> Also thank you guys so much for leaving kudos and comments, they really brighten my day. \\(^-^)/


	5. Hey Look Ma, I Made It!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil is crowned the newest Olympic champion!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three cheers for Phil! :D

Everything was numb. Phil’s head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and time seemed to move in slow motion. 

All around him, people gaped in bewilderment. Dan and Phil… had tied in the free skate? That was unheard of in a sport where everything was measured down to the hundredths, in a system designed to prevent ties from even happening. 

“Phil? Phil! You realize what this means, right?” PJ squealed, shaking Phil’s shoulders as if it would break the spell that had overtaken his friend.

“Huh?” mumbled Phil dumbly.

“It means you won, you fucking idiot! Give me a hug!” Felix lunged at Phil and embraced him.

Both Dan and Phil had earned a score of 223.20 in the free skate, but Phil’s 1.31 point lead over Dan in the short program broke the tie and earned Phil the gold.

Phil’s fellow skaters piled up on top of him, each hugging him to death and extending their warmest congratulations.

“Oh my God… I can’t believe it!” Phil choked.

“Goddamnit Phil, don’t cry again.” 

“Oh no, it looks like he’s not the only one crying…” Tyler pointed to the TV screen, brows furrowed in concern.

On the screen were Dan and Coach Jim, still in the Kiss and Cry. 

Dan had his head in his hands, his shoulders heaving up and down. Their coach was rubbing his back to comfort him, but to no avail. Dan only seemed to cry harder.

In all the years Phil had known Dan, it was the first time he saw him cry. Dan always tried to maintain a stoic facade, burying his emotions deep within himself and refusing to let anyone see. But the stony facade crumbled, and now Dan was sobbing on international television.

“I feel so bad,” said Phil, sadly.

“No, no. Don’t worry about him. He’ll be fine. Go, Phil! Everyone wants to see you!” exclaimed Tyler, pulling Phil up and leading him outside the Green Room. 

The moment Phil stepped outside the room, he was surrounded by a mob of reporters eager to speak with the new Olympic champion.

“Phil, how does it feel to have won the gold?”

“How will you deal with your new fame?”

“What are your feelings on the scores? Do you agree with the tie in the free skate?”

“How does it feel to have defeated Dan for the second time?”

And on and on and on. Cameras were shoved in his face and he was being fired at with questions from all angles. And most questions were loaded, meaning he couldn’t answer them without taking a dig at Dan or the other competitors.

He hated it.

“Um...uh…” was all he could manage in response to the barrage of questions.

An empathic person could see that Phil was clearly uncomfortable, but the reporters were ruthless, piling on even more questions. He tried escaping but they just closed in on him more, like vultures circling around prey. 

Phil felt a hand on his shoulder.

“AH!” he shrieked, then turned around to find the hand belonged to his coach.

“Phil needs time to rest. He’ll speak with you later,” Coach Jim informed the reporters and pulled Phil away.

“Oh God, thank you so much.”

“Not a problem. Come with me, we have to get you two cleaned up for the medal ceremony.”

Phil urgently needed cleaning up. His hair was disheveled from practically ripping it out from stress during Dan’s performance, his face was tear-streaked, and the small amount of makeup he wore for competition was splotchy. 

“How’s Dan?” he asked his coach curiously.

Jim sighed. “Dan’s not taking it well. He’s distraught.”

Jim refused to say anything more, instead leading Phil to an area backstage.

The bronze medalist, a Spanish skater named Javier, greeted him.

“Hey Phil! Great job out there. Here, I’ll show you where they’re doing hair and makeup.”

Phil followed Javier to a small corner where chairs were set up, and each took a seat.

“I’m Susan and I’ll be doing your hair and makeup today!” he was greeted by a cheerful woman holding a makeup brush.

Phil greeted her back and shifted in his chair uneasily. He knew makeup was necessary to prevent him from looking washed-out under the bright lights and in front of the cameras. It wasn’t his favorite though, since the powder made him sneeze and the brushes tickled his face.

Susan started off by dusting his face with foundation and applying some blush. That wasn’t too bad. Next up was lipstick, followed by brow powder to enhance his eyebrows.

Finally, she decided to apply some eyeliner to make his eyes pop. Phil was terrified as she approached him with the eyeliner wand and cringed away from it. He didn’t want his eyes to get poked out!

“Phil, relax. I’m not going to gouge your eyes out!” she laughed. “Actually, why don’t you apply it yourself?” she said, handing him a mirror.

Phil tried applying the eyeliner, but his hands were shaky and he ended up getting it all over his face, even on his nose.

“I can’t say I’ve ever seen that happen before,” she winced and wiped it off. Susan grabbed the eyeliner wand again and this time Phil let her put it on his eyes. 

After that, Susan grabbed a hairbrush and brushed his hair.

“You know what I think would suit you?” she asked, peering at Phil.

“No…?”

“You’d look so good with a quiff!” 

Phil shrugged. Maybe it was time to get rid of the emo fringe he’d desperately tried holding onto all these years.

Susan grabbed a blow dryer and a comb and got to work. She turned on the blow dryer and combed the hair back, giving the hairstyle volume. Phil did not like getting hot air blown in his face, but the idea of a new hairstyle sounded appealing. Once the quiff was made, Susan got some hairspray and sprayed it on his hair to keep the style in place.

“Ta-da!” she said, making jazz hands.

Phil looked in the mirror. Wow. The makeup accentuated his features, especially his eyes, and the new hairstyle opened up his face. He looked miles more mature- like a real adult.

He attempted a sexy smolder in the mirror. Susan laughed from behind.

“Oh Phil! You’re too precious.”

Phil now walked around aimlessly, until he felt his foot bump into something.When he glanced down to see what it was, he discovered it wasn’t a thing he bumped into; it was Dan, sitting on the floor.

“Oh God Dan, I’m so sorry,” Phil apologized, tentatively.

He was afraid, since Phil did kind of take the gold away from him. Honestly, he expected Dan to rip his head off.

But that didn’t happen.

Dan just looked up at Phil sadly and said, “It’s alright,” then curled back up into a ball.

Phil was dumbfounded. Dan had shown an extraordinary amount of anger the other night when Phil won the short program. Surely Phil winning the whole thing would have caused Dan to rage?

But no, Dan just looked depressed.

Phil’s senses were screaming at him to just go away, to just avoid Dan until this all blows over. But something in Phil made him sit down next to the broken skater.

Dan didn’t say anything, just whimpered. He didn’t move away either, which surprised Phil.

So the two just sat there in silence, Dan wallowing in misery and Phil keeping him company.

Eventually, Dan broke the silence.

“Phil… uh, good job. You skated really well,” Dan said so quietly, it was barely audible.

Phil was shocked. This was probably the first time Dan had ever complimented him.

“Dan, you skated really well too,” Phil replied.

Nothing was said between them after that, and they continued sitting side by side until their coach found them.

*****

It’s safe to say that Phil has been in a lot of medal ceremonies, given that he’d been competing internationally for seven years. At first, the young Phil adored medal ceremonies, embracing the chance to show the world his new medal. But as the years went by, he grew increasingly blasé about the whole ordeal. He saw no need for the pompous ritual; he just wanted his medal without being forced to stand on the podium for what felt like hours. Was that so much to ask?

But now Phil felt like a little kid again. He itched to stand in the middle spot on the podium and hold his beautiful gold medal (he’d named it Buffy, don’t judge him).

Impatience coursed through his veins as the president of the International Skating Union droned on and on, introducing several ISU board members and members of the International Olympic Committee. It took all of his self control not to run onto the podium right then and there.

“... and now, here are the medalists!” announced the ISU president.

“YESYESYES!” screamed Phil internally.

“The bronze medalist, Javier Fernandez from Spain!”

Javier stepped on the podium and was met with booming applause and a plethora of Spanish flags being waved in the audience. He waved happily to his fans in the audience and waited for an IOC official to hand him his medal. Once the medal was presented to him, Javier eagerly turned it over and over in his hands, looking at it in awe. This was Javier’s second Olympic Games- he’d competed in 2014, but came in fourth, 1.18 points shy of the bronze. Phil was ecstatic for Javier; it was amazing that the skater could bounce back after a disappointment like that and succeed four years later.

“The silver medalist, Dan Howell from Great Britain!” 

Dan stepped onto his spot on the podium, donning a small smile and waving to the crowd. Phil saw how dismayed Dan was just a short while earlier, so he knew Dan’s smile and enthusiasm were fake. 

Dan was handed his silver medal. He stared at it sadly, disappointment written clear on his face. It was now his second silver medal in a row. Most figure skaters would be overjoyed at earning a silver medal at any competition, let alone the Olympics. But Phil knew that for Dan, it stung.

“And now, the gold medalist from Great Britain, PHIL LESTER!” 

Phil shot onto the podium, nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He waved animatedly, pumping his fists and jumping around on the podium. Yes, he knew he was embarrassing himself, but he couldn’t help it! He’d been dreaming about this moment for years.

He watched as the IOC official approached him, gold medal in hand. He buzzed with excitement. After what seemed like eons (but was really only a few seconds), the gold medal was placed around Phil’s neck.

It felt amazing. The medal, Buffy, was large and heavy, much heavier than the medals he was used to getting, and so large he could barely wrap his hands around it. It was a dazzling gold color and shiny enough for Phil to see his reflection in it. 

“Eh, you like it?” grinned Javier, his own bronze medal glinting around his neck.

“Oh my god, yes! I’m never taking it off!” 

True to his word, Phil slept with the medal on that night, mind racing with the abundance of memories (good and bad) that the day brought.

If you had told Phil a week ago that he’d become an Olympic champion, he probably would have laughed in your face. But it happened, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)   
> I hope you enjoyedddd. Chapter 6 is in the works and I hope to have it posted by this weekend. 
> 
> Again, thanks for all your lovely comments. They fill (or Phil? Ba-dum-tsss) me with happiness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit goes down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> currently writing a lot trying to distract myself from the fact that my favorite skater did not qualify for the grand prix final :O
> 
> 1 liek=1 prayer
> 
> *sad violin sounds*

“Earth to Phil!” sighed Tyler, throwing a french fry at Phil’s face.

“AH! Tyler! What was that for?” Phil replied, rubbing his face in annoyance.

“Phil, this is like the third time you’ve zoned out today. Is something wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong. Phil’s thinking about his boyyyfriend again,” smirked Felix.

“That’s enough, Felix. Phil, please, tell us why you’ve been so...off today.”

Phil’s friends sat around the dingy dining hall table, all peering at him with concern.

Except for Felix. That bastard was grinning way too smugly for his own good.

“I’m just worried, guys. I haven’t seen Dan for like three whole days! What if something happened to him? What if-?”

Phil’s friends exchanged a look.

“Phil. Dan is fine. He’s probably just… I don’t know, taking a break,” said PJ, gently.

“Yeah, probably. Plus, didn’t you and Dan, like, hate each other or something?” added Tyler, popping a fry into his mouth.

“I bet they hooked up after the free skate and Dan’s just embarrassed!” Felix singsonged.

Phil blushed. That’s absolutely not what happened.

“I don’t have to deal with this,” he said crossly, getting up and walking away, leaving his friends baffled.

He speedwalked up the stairs to his and Dan’s room. As he reached the door, hope bubbled inside him. Maybe Dan had come back!

But frustration took over once again when he flung open the door, revealing an empty room.

“Argh,” he groaned and buried his fingers in his hair.

Where could Dan be? The last Phil had seen of the skater was three days prior, just after the medal ceremony. Phil remembered coming back to the room, Dan in tow. They went to sleep as normal, but when Phil woke up Dan was gone. Phil figured Dan would come back later in the day, but as night dawned yet again, he was nowhere to be found. 

The most frustrating part was how relaxed everyone was about it.

“Phil, you know how Dan gets,” Coach Jim had told him, “Just give him time and he’ll come back.”

“He’s probably just sad, Phil. That was a tough loss. Let him be alone,” said Louise, one of Dan and Phil’s mutual friends.

The only people even remotely concerned were Dan’s fans, the Dangirls, since surprise, surprise, Dan hadn’t tweeted or posted anything during those three days either.

“Idiots!” Phil wanted to scream at everyone. “A world famous figure skater is missing and you don’t care?!”

Truthfully, Phil didn’t know why he cared so much either. Deep down, he knew he should be mad. Disappearing off the face of the planet for half a week after losing was pretty much the pinnacle of bad sportsmanship. Imagine if Phil did that every time he lost! His coach would crucify him. 

But something in Phil had changed after the free skate. Seeing Dan get his hopes and dreams smashed to smithereens live on TV was awful. How could he be mad after that? 

*****

Phil dove further under his blankets and tried various ways of adjusting his pillow, but no matter what he did, sleep wouldn’t come.

He was still so worried about Dan, especially now that it was nighttime. What if Dan was outside freezing in the cold? Did he even have a jacket?

Phil was tempted to go out and look for him, but it was freezing outside and he didn’t want to catch hypothermia. So he just closed his eyes and tried drifting away to sleep.

*****

Footsteps. 

Phil shot up in bed, the foreign noises startling him out of his slumber. He checked the clock.

2:36 A.M.

“Probably just people coming back from partying,” he muttered drowsily. 

The door creaked open.

Phil’s eyes widened. This was definitely not normal. He hid under the covers, trying to make himself invisible. It had to be a robber, what else could it be?

His life flashed before his eyes. His first day of school, his sixth birthday, that time he’d dyed his hair blond the week he started high school, his first Olympic gold medal.

The gold medal!

The robber had to be after that!

“Buffy! Don’t worry, I’ll save you!” he thought as he devised a plan of action. 

He’d left his medal on the nightstand which was within arm’s reach. Quickly, he grabbed Buffy and held her tight to his chest.

“Thank God you’re safe,” he thought, stroking the medal adoringly.

The digital clock on the nightstand partially illuminated the room, allowing Phil to get a glimpse of the perp.

The robber was tall and slender, and he was currently on Dan’s side of the room, combing through his suitcase.

Horror dawned on Phil. Maybe the robber was after Dan’s silver medal too!

 

Phil knew Dan wasn’t too happy with silver, but he would hate to see Dan get left without a medal at all.

He had a choice. He could either pretend to be asleep and wait until the robber left, or he could make sure the scoundrel didn’t take his rinkmate’s hard earned medal. Phil knew what had to be done.

He grabbed his pillow and crept up behind the burglar, who was still looking through Dan’s stuff. Taking a deep breath, Phil struck the thief with the pillow as hard as he could.

“AAAAHHH WHAT THE FUCK!” the burglar let out a (very) high pitched scream, falling onto Dan’s bed.

Phil jumped on top of the burglar, ready to use all the moves he’d learned in Mortal Kombat. The thief tried wrestling out of Phil’s grip, but Phil was too strong.

“You want to steal Dan’s silver medal? Well, you’ll have to go through me first!” Phil tried sounding brave, but he was almost pissing himself out of fear.

The robber stilled.

“Phil- I- what the serious fuck are you talking about?!” 

Phil’s blood ran cold. It wasn’t a robber, it was Dan.

“Dan?! Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Phil jumped off of him.

“Of course I’m Dan you… you idiot! Who the fuck else would I be?” Dan spat, getting up.

“I don’t know, I thought you were a robber.”

“Jesus Christ, Phil. Now go back to sleep.”

“Fine. But you have to go to sleep, too. It’s late.”

“No, uh, I have somewhere to be right now,” he said sheepishly, trying to leave the room.

“At 3 A.M.? Yeah, right.” Phil got up and turned the light on, looking Dan face to face for the first time in three days.

“Why the fuck do you care?” Dan glared at Phil.

“DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED I’VE BEEN THESE LAST FEW DAYS? YOU CAN’T JUST DISAPPEAR LIKE THAT, DAN! I THOUGHT SOMETHING BAD HAPPENED TO YOU!”

“Phil. Calm down. You’re going to wake everyone up!” he whispered angrily.

“You know what? Fine. Go back into hiding or whatever you were doing. See if I care!” Phil said, voice filled with hurt.

“Ugh fine! Get your jacket on. We’re not talking about this here, okay?”

Phil hesitated, then grabbed his coat. He hated going outside at this time, but he wouldn’t let Dan disappear like that ever again.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”  
*****

“Are we there yet?” Phil asked for the thousandth time. He didn’t mean to be annoying, but he was cold and he had no idea where Dan was taking him.

Dan stopped walking and huffed.

“Philip Lester, you are quite literally the most aggravating person I have ever met.”

“Thanks.”

Dan rolled his eyes and grabbed Phil’s arm, leading him into a small coffee shop, which was miraculously open at that ungodly hour in the morning.

Dan strolled in, already familiar with the establishment. He walked up to the counter and ordered two hot green teas.

“Oh… sorry, I don’t have any money,” Phil apologized.

“Don’t worry about it.”

They waited in silence for the barista to make their drinks. Once they were ready, Dan took one and handed the other to Phil.

Phil went to sit down in one of the plush armchairs but Dan pulled him back up.

“No, I know a better place to talk.”

He badly wanted to stay behind in the coffee shop, where it was warm and bright. But he didn’t say anything. This was probably the most he’d interacted with Dan, and he quite liked spending time with him when he wasn’t being mean.

They walked back outside, small snowflakes now beginning to dust the ground. Dan and Phil walked silently, allowing Phil to take in his surroundings.

They were currently in the downtown area of Gangneung, a South Korean city not far from Pyeongchang. Although it was extremely early in the morning, many buildings in Gangneung were still brightly lit and Phil could faintly hear music emanating from a distant nightclub. Phil had spent most of his time in South Korea holed up in the Olympic Village and hadn’t had a chance to explore the nearby cities, a fact he regretted. He was used to cities- he lived in one and travelled to them all the time, but something about Gangneung was different. It was picturesque and filled with so many quaint buildings Phil yearned to explore.

“Pretty, right?” Dan said, reading Phil’s mind. He grinned and they both looked around, enjoying the moment.

*****  
“Come on,” Dan grabbed Phil again, this time taking him to a beach.

“Wow,” Phil breathed. There was something magical about the sea at night, and this beach was no exception. The moon shone on the dark water, making it glow.

They sat down on the sand, close to the water, but not close enough for it to hit their feet.

“So… do you think you want to explain yourself?” Phil questioned, watching in fascination as his breath condensed into a small cloud.

Dan closed his eyes and took a sip of tea before he answered. “I needed to get away for a bit.”

“And?” 

“Again, why do you care so much? I thought you hated me,” Dan whispered, even though they were completely alone.

“I don’t hate you.”

“But I was such an asshole to you.”

“Yeah, kind of,” Phil laughed, “but… I’ve known you since we were kids. I don’t think I could really hate you, even if I tried,” he paused, “do you hate me?”

“No… yeah, actually. That’s kind of why I disappeared these past few days.”

“Oh.”

Phil felt tears well up in his eyes at the admission. Yes, Phil pretty much knew that Dan hated him, but hearing the suspicions confirmed by Dan himself, especially after spending time together, hurt. A lot.

Determined not to let Dan see him cry, Phil looked away and focused on his tea instead. It was surprisingly delicious, but he wasn’t thirsty anymore.

“Phil, no, look at me,” Dan pleaded, but Phil shook his head. He felt like a fool; he’d spent the past few days stressing out over Dan and even risked his life to save Dan’s medal from a supposed robber. And for what? Dan hated him.

Phil didn’t even really know why he cared so much. He wasn’t a saint either, having wished for Dan to lose competitions on numerous occasions. 

Whatever. It didn’t matter now, did it?

 

“Thanks for the tea. I have to go. It’s getting late,” he said, getting up and walking away.

Dan looked at him go, before springing up onto his feet and following Phil.

“Oh no you don’t,” growled Dan, yanking Phil back down to the ground.

“Dan what the hell?”

“God, please just listen to me!” Dan snapped.

“Okay, okay.”

“Yep Phil, I hated you, if it wasn’t fucking obvious,” Dan said, referring to his past treatment of Phil. “In fact, I hated you since the very beginning.”

Phil’s heart broke. He thought back to the day he met Dan.  
*****

“We have a new student,” Coach Jim had said, his arm around a small, timid 13 year old.

“What’s your name?” 

“Daniel, but uh, call me Dan if you want.” 

The boy was nervous those first few weeks, consistently flubbing his jumps. In fact, Coach Jim almost refused to coach Dan, saying that Dan was too nervous and would never be successful. 

“Please Coach, just give him a chance,” pleaded Phil. After much begging, the coach relented, allowing Dan to stay.

*****

The then 14 year old Phil was certain him and Dan would become friends- after all, they spent almost all their waking hours at the rink training together.

But soon they made their international debuts, with Dan leaving Phil trailing in every single competition. Dan blossomed into a confident, talented performer, and Phil was left in the dust. Second-rate.

Tears freely flowed down Phil’s face now. There really weren’t words to describe how wounded he was. Phil had gotten angry at Dan before, even infuriated with him. But he never hated him. Not like Dan hated him.

“Oh yeah?” Phil hiccuped, “and you brought me all the way here to tell me that?”

“Fuck! Why do I mess everything up?” Dan moaned, rubbing his face in his hands.

He hesitated, then grabbed Phil’s hands, anchoring him.

Phil tried yanking his hands away, but Dan held on tighter.

“I’m not letting you go until you listen to what I have to say,” he murmured, looking right into Phil’s eyes.

Phil nodded, allowing Dan to continue.

“As I was saying, I hated how you were always so ...good. The way you move on ice is fucking hypnotic, Phil. You’re so graceful without even trying! I’m so awkward, and I can never get the step sequences right,” Dan sniffled and wiped his eyes.

“Dan, I think you’re talking about yourself,” Phil laughed wryly, “are you forgetting that you’ve literally beat me in all but two competitions the past seven years? Your jumps are so amazing and so much better than mine. I was always really jealous,” he admitted.

“Yeah, but they weren’t enough to get the gold.” Dan’s voice cracked and he covered his face with his hands to prevent Phil from seeing him cry.

“Oh Dan.”

“Phil, I tried so hard. I- I don’t know what’s happening to me! I keep losing everything. I don’t know what to do.”

“You just described everything I feel on a daily basis!” Phil giggled.

“Sorry,” Dan said regretfully, finally beginning to understand the world of hurt Phil had experienced the past seven years.

“Seriously though. The competition could’ve gone either way. The way you skated those two days was incredible. You fought ‘til the end, and I think that’s really admirable.”

Dan sobbed harder and Phil panicked. He was awful with people crying in front of him- usually he just ended up crying with them!

So that’s what ended up happening. Dan and Phil, crying together on an empty beach at 4 A.M.

Iconic.

It might sound crazy, but their sobfest ended up being great in the long run. It allowed them to purge the pent up emotions from the past few weeks and start over, this time as friends.

They talked for hours after that, giving each other compliments and skating tips. Eventually, the conversation moved from skating altogether. They talked about their favorite music (Muse), argued about food (“How can you hate cheese Phil, that’s so weird”), and discussed their favorite games (“I’m the Mario Kart master, Dan, don’t deny it”). 

Dan and Phil talked until the sun came up, and together they watched the orange and red hues of sunrise melt away and be replaced by the light blue of the morning sky.

*****

“So you never told me where you went for the last three days,” Phil asked Dan over breakfast at a cute cafe Dan discovered.

“I just spent them in Gangneung,” he shrugged, taking a bite out of a muffin.

“But where did you sleep?”

“I slept outside!” Dan beamed.

“Dan! You’re an idiot!” Phil said in disbelief, hitting Dan lightly.

“No, I’m just kidding, mum,” he chuckled, “I somehow managed to find a sketchy hotel room. If I hadn’t, well… I probably would have had to sleep outside.”

They then took a cab ride back to the Olympic Village. Neither of the two managed to get sleep the previous night since they spent most of it talking, so they conked out as soon as their heads hit their pillows.

They still had a lot of unresolved feelings to work through and there was hurt on both sides, but Dan and Phil both knew they would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh yes
> 
> thanks for all the love on this story guys, i read every single comment y'all write <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil go back to England, but will things be the same?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LMAO I'm actually dead. So hecking sorry I haven't updated in two weeks, my life is a mess rn oof. 
> 
> This is so sad, Alexa play Internet is Here.
> 
> I have finals coming up soon, but Christmas break is in like ten days, so I'll have way more time then.
> 
> i hope u enjoy, and i love all of u

“Can I get a venti caramel macchiato, please?”

“Sir, are you sure? That’s 20 ounces of coffee.”

Phil looked up at the barista, allowing her to catch a glimpse of his, ahem, unbecoming face. Although Phil was quite attractive, he currently looked like death warmed over. His pale face managed to become even paler, with purple puffy eyebags surrounding his eyes. Due to insufficient time to style his hair, the familiar emo fringe made a reappearance, with ginger beginning to peek through at the roots. 

The nosy barista winced and began preparing his coffee.

“Venti caramel macchiato, coming right up!”

When it was ready, Phil grabbed his drink and sprinted out into the chilly London air. He was late for practice.

He ran the whole way there, knowing his coach would probably behead him. 

When he got there, Coach Jim was standing right in front of the doorway, dashing Phil’s hopes of slipping in unnoticed.

“Sorry I’m late, sir,” he mumbled.

“What the hell is going on with you two? I’m very disappointed.”

“Hmm, maybe it has to do with the fact that, oh I don’t know, we literally got off a 13 hour flight this morning and are still extremely jetlagged?” Dan cut in, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

Dan didn’t look much better than Phil. His hair was unruly, wild curls sticking up in every direction. Dark bags also bloomed under his eyes, a sharp contrast to the paper-white face he currently sported. His black warmup clothes were wrinkled, and Phil could see drool all around Dan’s mouth.

“Jetlag is a myth,” their coach said spryly, “and that’s no excuse for being late. Phil, drop and give me fifty pushups.”

“For Christ’s sake,” Phil muttered under his breath. Pushups were his least favorite physical activity. He could barely lower his body half an inch without his arms feeling like jelly.

But Phil hated conflict, so he dropped to the ground and did fifty very pathetic pushups, his arms burning and trembling like crazy.

After the fiftieth pushup, Phil collapsed to the ground and looked up at Dan and his coach in agony.

“Sad,” sighed Coach Jim, shaking his head in disgust. Dan helped Phil off the ground and patted his back in encouragement as they made their way to the locker room to get ready for practice.

*****

“Kill me,” Dan begged as he laced up his skates.

“I know! We got back from South Korea THIS MORNING. Why do we have to go to practice?!”

They arrived in London 6 hours ago, to be exact. After 13 hours and 9 time zones on a plane, all Phil really wanted to do was crawl into bed and never come out. Their coach wasn’t having it though- in fact, he even tried to get them to come to practice straight from the airport! But after heated protest from both skaters, Coach Jim relented. 

“It’s because the World Championships are next month,” Dan scoffed, “but it’s ridiculous nonetheless.”

They walked together to the ice where their coach was waiting, arms crossed expectantly.

“Well, go on then. Warm up!”

 

Phil skated in circles around the ice, hoping it would wake him up. But every movement he made just plunged him into exhaustion even more. His eyelids drooped, and he lapsed into micro-sleep every few minutes, a definite safety hazard when you’re skating 20 kilometers an hour on a slippery surface with sharp blades on your feet.

“PHIL! WATCH OUT!” Dan screamed, but it was too late. Phil collided head-on with Coach Jim. Jim, having been a skater himself for over a decade and a coach for 20 years was sturdy, so to Phil, it felt like hitting a brick wall.

“Get. Off. The. Ice,” he spat as he dragged Phil away, “Go sit on the bleachers and think about your actions.”

Phil’s whole body ached something fierce, but he was glad for the opportunity to sit down. Maybe then he could actually get some sleep.

“Okay Dan, let’s do a run-through of your short program,” Jim turned towards Dan.

Dan sluggishly skated to the center of the ice and waited for his music to start. The all too familiar electric guitar notes sounded, but Dan’s skating was well below the quality he had exhibited during the Olympics.

His timing was off, since he started skating a bit after the song started. He tried overcompensating for this by doing some moves faster, but he moved too quickly and ended up losing his balance.

“HOW DO YOU FALL BY JUST SKATING?” Coach Jim demanded. Dan hadn’t even fallen on a jump; he fell just gliding across the ice.

“I’m tired, okay?”

Dan continued skating, trying to do a spin, but it was sloppy and didn’t have enough speed. He attempted a quadruple salchow, but under rotated it and crashed onto the ice.

Where his Olympic short program had been powerful and hard-hitting, this was lethargic and slapdash. It was the same music, same choreography, but the effort wasn’t there and it showed.

Dan tried the triple axel, but popped it (meaning he ended the jump too soon, doing only one revolution instead of three).

He brushed it off and kept struggling through his short program, just doing the motions without paying much attention.

After a few botched spins, it was time for the step sequence. His program had a variety of difficult turns and movements which Dan practiced for hours in preparation for the Olympics. But all those hours of practice were lost on Dan, who just stopped skating.

“Dan? What now?”

“I… I can’t remember the steps. I’m too tired,” he whined.

Coach Jim shouted in frustration and switched off the music.

“Dan, that was terrible!” Jim yelled.

“I dunno, I happen to think it was pretty good,” Dan smirked, knowing full well his performance that day in practice was horrific. But he clearly wanted to get a rise out of the coach in retaliation for forcing them to practice on 4 hours of sleep.

Coach Jim had an unpredictable temper, so Dan was treading on thin ice, literally and figuratively.

“GET OUT OF MY RINK! BOTH OF YOU! DON’T COME BACK UNTIL YOU CAN BEHAVE!”

You didn’t have to tell them twice. Dan and Phil scrambled into the locker room and quickly gathered their things, running outside into freedom.

Once safely outside, they doubled over in laughter.

“Did you see his face?!” Dan cackled, barely able to breathe, “it was so red!”

“Red? Are you blind? It was purple!”

“All jokes aside, we have the day off now. What are you gonna do?”

“I’m not sure,” Phil said, “I want to sleep but it’ll royally mess up my sleep schedule. I’m gonna try and stay up until like 9 or something.”

“9 P.M., Phil? How rebellious.”

“Oh shut up. What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” Dan looked conflicted, “I haven’t had a day off since, like, Christmas. Actually, I showed up to practice even then.”

“Well, why don’t you come to my place? We can figure something out there!”

Dan’s eyes widened.

“R-really?”

“Yeah, sure. Come on.”

*****

The sight of Dan sitting awkwardly on his couch was something Phil thought he’d never see.

The “cool and confident” man was sitting pin-straight, as if he were a kid visiting a classmate’s house for the first time. It was ridiculous to Phil, since he considered himself very laid-back. But pointing it out would just stress Dan out even more, so he changed the subject.

“So, what do you want to do?” he asked.

“I dunno, what do you wanna do?”

“No, what do YOU want to do?” Phil retorted immaturely.

“Jesus Christ. Just turn on Netflix or something,” Dan grumbled, his previous unease thrown out the window.

“Now that’s more like it,” Phil said, getting up to turn his TV on. While Phil perused through all the shows they could watch, Dan glanced around Phil’s flat.

It certainly wasn’t the flat you’d expect an adult (and pro athlete) to have. Bright posters dotted the walls, showcasing a variety of shows, movies, bands, and video games Phil adored. Crammed on large bookcases were an assortment of Phil’s favorite books and anime figurines. Strewn on the mismatched furniture were various plushes, like a Totoro a fan gave him, a blobfish his brother bought him for Christmas, and the lion he got at the Olympics. 

However, it was the extremely dehydrated houseplants scattered around Phil’s flat that caught Dan’s eye.

“Phil, why is your houseplant wearing a gold medal?” Dan asked incredulously.

“Rachel was looking a bit wilted when I got back from South Korea, so I put Buffy on her to cheer her up.”

“You named your gold medal Buffy? You- you’re too precious for this world.”

“Hey!” he retorted, his face tomato-red.

“Oh no, Phil,” Dan said in mock sadness, “my silver medal doesn’t have a name yet.”

Phil appeared pensive, then exclaimed brightly “Name it Sarah! It has a really nice ring to it.”

“Sarah as in Sarah Michelle Gellar? The actress who played Buffy on Buffy the Vampire Slayer?” 

“Yeah, why not?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a metaphor in there somewhere, but I’m too tired to figure it out. Here, give me the remote,” Dan said as he grabbed for it and turned on the Great British Bake Off.

Netflix started playing an episode Phil already watched, giving him time to collect his thoughts.

So much had happened these past weeks that Phil didn’t even know where to begin. He went to South Korea, somehow won the Olympics, and even reconciled with Dan, who was now willingly in his flat watching Netflix.

It was a lot to process, especially the Dan part. Although they bonded at the beach the other day, their new friendship was still on shaky legs. Dan was evidently still troubled by his defeat, as he was noticeably quieter and more reserved. And Phil was a mess of emotions as well.

He cared for Dan and was ecstatic to be his friend, but he was haunted by the way Dan used to be, especially these past few months. The things he said to Phil were awful and severely undermined his self esteem. He felt conflicted because he genuinely liked Dan as a person, but the way he treated him in the past was too hurtful to forget. Deep down, he knew Dan was different now, but a small part of him was afraid Dan would start tormenting him again. It seems laughable that the skater sitting calmly next to Phil could have been a large source of misery, but it was true. And as much as he wanted to just forget it all, Phil felt that their friendship couldn’t progress in a healthy way with that much baggage weighing it down.

Dan paused the show, seemingly sensing Phil’s inner turmoil.

“Phil, what’s wrong?”

“Uh, nothing’s wrong,” he fibbed sheepishly.

“I’m not stupid, Phil. I can practically hear you thinking. Talk to me,” he turned to Phil, concern etched on his face, patting Phil’s knee.

Phil tried swallowing the lump in his throat but failed. They weren’t supposed to be having that conversation now; it would absolutely ruin their day.

Dan looked so genuinely worried for Phil and it broke his heart. How could he tell Dan that the reason he was feeling this way was because of him? 

Was he just supposed to say, “Yeah, you were a massive jerk and I don’t know if we can really be friends. Tea?”

There was no easy way to spit it out, but the way Dan was looking at Phil made it clear that he wouldn’t budge until Phil spoke his mind.

“Well…?” Dan prodded.

Phil let out a low sigh. 

“Ughhh… I don’t know how to say this,” he laughed nervously, “but basicallythewayyoutreatedmebeforewasreallymeanandIdon’tknowhowtoforgetit,” he finished in one breath, then shut his eyes in fear.

“What?” Dan sputtered in confusion.

“Phil, say that again slowly, so I can actually hear you.”

Phil opened both eyes and looked at Dan, who appeared stressed.

“Um, I was trying to say that, uh, the way you used to treat me was really hurtful and I don’t know how to move on from it,” he whispered, eyes fixated on the couch.

Dan gasped.

“Oh god. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?!” he reached out to touch Phil, but froze mid air.

“I don’t know! You’re really nice and I wanted to get past it, but I guess I’m just scared it might happen again.”

Dan’s face twisted in pain, as if Phil had just slapped him.

Phil wanted to take back what he just said, but it was all out in the open now. So he just stared at Dan, watching as he cycled through various states of distress.

“Dan, it’s okay, just forget I said anything,” he tentatively patted Dan’s shoulder.

Dan looked destroyed, but a small part of Phil was glad he brought it up. It felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

“No, it’s not okay,” Dan croaked finally, “Um, I should go.”

Dan got up dejectedly, then ran out quickly, leaving Phil sitting bewildered and alone on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Dw, the next chapters are gonna move the story along, I'm just working out the kinks rn (no not like that).
> 
> ~WaterChickens (cringe username, i know)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil have an interview... what happens next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, it's me coming at y'all with an update... six months late. OOF!
> 
> Imma try to keep it short: these past few months I've been really, really struggling with bipolar disorder, and thus this story has kind of taken the back burner. But I got put on meds thankfully, and I'm doing much better now.
> 
> I still fully intend on finishing the story, no matter how long it takes me, but I can't make any promises regarding a set schedule as I don't know how my condition will fare.
> 
> Thank you for your understanding, and thanks for reading.
> 
> -Nicole

Dan had gone AWOL again.

By now, Phil probably should have gotten used to Dan’s disappearing act. But something about the way that conversation ended bothered him.

Although Phil was initially reluctant to address the whole rivalry issue, expressing his unease to Dan was cathartic. It would have been the perfect opportunity to unpack and work through their previous animosity; and only then could they truly start anew.

Their late night reconciliation at Gangneung, although monumental, had just barely scratched the surface of their issues. If they really wanted a shot at a solid friendship, they’d need to sit down and talk about everything, starting from the very beginning.

*****

Phil stared out the window on the way to the BBC Broadcasting House, witnessing the muted grays of the stormy sky overtake the London skyline.

Raindrops started falling, and Phil gazed at the cascading rivulets in nervous anticipation. Dan and Phil had an interview at the BBC, so he would get to see Dan again for the first time since Dan’s disappearance that day at Phil’s flat. 

There was so much he wanted to say to him.

The taxi stopped in front of the BBC building. Phil paid, got out of the dingy cab, and stepped out. By now it was pouring, drenching Phil from head to toe. He ran into the building to avoid getting even more soaked, striding into the lobby.

“Hello, are you Phil Lester?” asked a receptionist upon his entry.

“Yes, I uh, I’m here for the interview,” he stammered.

God. Why was he so nervous? He’s had thousands of interviews in his life, so why did he feel like he had to puke?

“Come with me,” the receptionist beckoned for him to follow her, and she led him through the winding pathways of the building.

After much walking, they went down a smaller hallway, which opened up into a seating area. It was empty, much to Phil’s chagrin. Dan wasn’t there yet.

“Well, here we are!” she chirped, “Stephanie is still finishing something up, so she’ll send for you guys when it’s time for your interview!” then she left.

Phil looked around the room and chose a comfortable looking seat situated in the corner, then pulled out his phone to browse reddit. He still had quite a bit of time to kill before his interview. 

*****

“Okay guys, Stephanie said she’s ready for you!” smiled the receptionist as she walked into the room, then frowned when she saw Phil sitting alone.

“Oh! Dan’s not here yet it seems,” she said, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“I don’t know where he is!” groaned Phil.

They were supposed to have been at the BBC half an hour ago, but still no sign of Dan. There was no way Dan would skip out on this interview, right? 

Right?

“Well, maybe he’ll show up later! Come with me!”

Phil was led to a medium sized room in which sat Stephanie, their interviewer. 

She was sitting on a chair holding a microphone, ready to start the interview. By her side were two other chairs, one labeled ‘Dan’ and the other ‘Phil’. 

Phil walked in, and the receptionist immediately scurried over to Stephanie.

“It appears that Dan hasn’t arrived yet,” she whispered concernedly.

“That’s weird. He was supposed to be here like, almost an hour ago,” Stephanie muttered. “Oh well, at least we have Phil here, right?” she smiled, turning to him.

“Alrighty Phil, come over here,” she gestured to the seat next to her, then pulled out her clipboard with questions. 

He sat down in his chair and grabbed the microphone Stephanie handed him.

“Nervous?” she chuckled, noticing how Phil restlessly bounced his leg.

“Yeah,” he sighed. He still didn’t know why he was so terrified.

“Aw, don’t be. It’s fine. We can just edit out any awkward moments...” she trailed off, noticing how stressed her guest still looked.

“Do you know where Dan is?” he asked timidly.

She smiled knowingly, “No, sorry. But he hasn’t cancelled yet, so I’m guessing he’ll be here eventually. Let’s wait for him a little bit, to see if he shows up, okay?” 

And so they waited. And waited. But 30 minutes passed, and Dan was still nowhere to be found.

Stephanie looked disappointed as she smoothed out her dress and straightened out her glasses.

“Sorry Phil, I’m afraid we’re going to have to start the interview now, with or without Dan. I’m running kind of short on time here,” she winced.

“Okay,” he exhaled, trying to calm himself down, attempting to quell his blossoming stress.

Stephanie did not look convinced.

“You’re still super nervous. Wait here, I’ll get you some water.”

Phil watched her exit the room. 

Panicked, he pulled out his phone, only to see that Dan hadn’t texted him at all, not since he ran out of Phil’s flat.

He frantically sent texts to Dan, each a variation of “DAN WE HAVE AN INTERVIEW WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

Cold fear settled in the pit of his stomach. Could it be that Dan hated him, after what he said the other day?

He anxiously picked up his phone again, feeling nothing but dread when he saw his texts, just like all the others he’d sent the past few days, remained unread.

He dialled Coach Jim, hoping he’d have information on Dan’s whereabouts, but remembered that he was currently coaching the junior skaters and most likely had his phone off. He tried nonetheless, groaning in dismay when the call went to voicemail.

His shoulders sagged when he realized that Dan probably just ditched the interview, just like he’d been ditching practice.

Stephanie walked back in.

“He’s still not here? Oh well, the show must go on, right? Here’s your water.”

He took the water and tried to ignore the maelstrom of frustration, disappointment, and anxiety that bubbled up in his chest.

*****

He emerged from the BBC building roughly an hour or so later. The interview was fairly standard, the questions mainly centering around Phil’s emotions surrounding the win and his plans for the future. But despite the run-of-the-mill conversation, Phil found himself unable to quell his stress, and he knew his anxiety showed on camera. 

Oh well. He didn’t really care.

Immediately after his interview, Phil called Coach Jim, who confirmed that no, Dan wasn’t gravely injured, he just decided to skip the interview.

“Jesus Christ,” grunted Phil. His suspicions were correct.

“I know I know, I’ll talk to him,” sighed the coach, then hung up.

Phil was relieved that Dan was alive, but it hurt and angered him to know that Dan was blatantly avoiding him.

He caught a cab and asked the driver to take him to McDonald’s. Unhealthy, he knew. But he wasn’t in the mood for anything else.

He stepped up to the counter and ordered a buffalo chicken wrap, no cheese.

While they prepared his food, he took a seat on one of the grubby chairs and checked his phone yet again. Much to his annoyance, Dan still hadn’t replied, but Phil’s messages had all been marked as “read”. His fists clenched in anger.

“Phil! Your order’s ready!” called an employee.

Phil got up and retrieved his food, then sat back down to try and enjoy his meal. But the wrap, just like the rest of his day, was a major disappointment. Wilted lettuce occupied the majority of the wrap, with tiny bits of chicken interspersed throughout. The first bite he took tasted odd, so he opened up the wrap to inspect it, finding the culprit almost immediately: cheese.

He huffed and threw his dinner in the bin, then stalked outside to catch a cab. Unfortunately for Phil, however, it began pouring outside again, soaking him to the bone. To top it off, he had spent the last of his cash on the mediocre chicken wrap, and had left his credit card at home. So the cab was a no-go, apparently.

He ducked back into the McDonald’s and pulled out his phone to devise a plan. Upon consulting a map, he discovered he was within walking distance of his ice rink. He sighed in relief. He had some spare cash in his locker at the rink, and it should be enough to cover the cab fare for a ride home. Or at least close enough to home.

Taking a deep breath for courage, he stepped outside once again.

He ran all the way to the rink, trying to tuck his head into his elbow to avoid being pelted in the face by rain.

After a long, harrowing jog, he made it safely to the rink.

It was pretty late in the evening now, so the scheduled practices for that day were over. The rink was closed at this hour, but luckily Phil kept a spare key to the building with him. He was a bit glad that the rink was closed, so no one would see him in his current soaked and disheveled state.

He pulled out his key and unlocked the door, trying to make as little noise as possible, lest he disturb the ghosts he was certain inhabited the ice rink. Call him ridiculous, but Phil was just being extra cautious, thankyouverymuch.

He walked in and shut the door behind him. He noticed the lights were on in the rink, much to his confusion. Who would be at the rink at this hour? Besides him, of course. He shrugged it off, rationalizing it as a member of the custodial staff finishing up the nightly cleaning.

He didn’t think much of it as he walked to the locker room in search of his money. He arrived at his locker and began combing through it, hoping to find enough cash for a cab ride home. He looked through all the belongings that cluttered his locker, becoming shocked at the abundance of crap he had in there. It wasn’t until he fished out a pair of skate guards he’d lost when he was 14 that he realized a deep cleaning was necessary. But that was for another time. Right now he just had to focus on getting home. 

Eventually he was able to dig out enough loose change to cover a cab ride, so he headed out of the locker room towards the door.

But something was amiss. He was able to hear music, although very faintly.

Something was definitely weird. Tense as he was, however, he explained it away as someone forgetting to turn off their music after practice.

“Uhh guess I better turn it off,” he thought to himself.

He walked towards the source of the music, the CD player mounted on the wall next to the ice. Goosebumps dotted his skin as he walked —this was definitely one of the eerier experiences he’d encountered in his life. 

He opened the door and stepped into the large room which held the ice rink itself, his trepidation increasing tenfold as he heard specifically what music was playing.

Shelter.

His free program music. 

By now, any rational person would get the hell out of there lest they get hacked to pieces by a deranged serial killer. 

But after a few moments of standing there paralyzed with fear yet remaining intact, he decided to press on. After all, if some terrifying masked man was in fact trying to kill him, surely they would’ve gotten him already? Plus, the lights were on, so he’d be able to see any oncoming attackers. 

He walked in, now able to get a full view of the room. He looked from left to right, inspecting his surroundings. 

The whole room seemed empty, except…

Phil took a few more steps closer to the ice. There appeared to be someone skating, which at this hour seemed extremely strange.

The figure whizzed by him, allowing Phil to catch a glimpse of the mysterious late-night skater. Goosebumps popped up on his skin again, but for an entirely different reason.

“Dan!” he choked out. 

He was immediately overjoyed at seeing Dan safe and in one piece, but this joy turned into confusion as the situation sunk in.

Why on earth was Dan skating to Phil’s free skate music? It didn’t make any sense. 

Phil ran towards the bleachers, aiming to get a closer look. He didn’t sit on them, but stood beside them, making himself seem as small as possible. He didn’t want to risk Dan seeing him spy.

Phil’s heart stopped when he realized that not only was Dan skating to his music, but he was skating Phil’s same exact choreography as well.

The same steps and turns, twizzles and toe loops, salchows and axels that Phil had spent this past season perfecting. Dan sailed through Phil’s choreographic sequence with such a languid easiness that could’ve fooled anyone into thinking it was Dan’s own program.

It was the ultimate compliment as a skater, to see someone so talented replicate his free program. To know that his biggest skating rival was honoring him like this (although Phil wasn’t supposed to know about it) filled Phil with so much elation. 

Dan finished the final corkscrew spin in the program right as the music ended. He skated off the ice to go turn off the music, shoulders sagging in exhaustion.

Phil leapt away from the bleachers, not caring that Dan would be able to see him

He ran towards Dan, who still didn’t know he was being watched. Once he got close enough to him, he lightly tapped him on the back.

Dan froze, then reluctantly turned around, his eyes going wide as saucers when he saw who it was.

“Phil…? What are you doing here?” he asked almost fearfully.

“I had to stop by my locker to get something, then I heard music so I went to investigate and then I—”

“Y- You saw all that?” Dan paled.

“Yes, Dan. It was beautiful!”

“You weren’t supposed to see that! I thought I was alone,” Dan’s voice trembled.

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it though! You skated so well, I couldn’t stop watching.”

Dan’s face reddened and he covered his face with his hands.

“Damn it Phil, you probably think I’m a huge creep.”

Phil shook his head and tried prying Dan’s hands away from his face, but they wouldn’t budge.

“No no no, of course not! I’m, uh, super flattered. And super happy to see you’re safe. Seriously though, where have you been these past few days?”

Dan groaned, “Does it really matter?”

“Yes! I never know what’s going on with you, and it’s stressing me out!”

“Alright, alright. I was home, okay?”

“Why weren’t you at the interview? They had to do it without you!”

“So?” Dan crossed his arms, “they do solo interviews all the time.”

“Yeah, but you never miss one on purpose. And you haven’t been at practice, either.”

“Sure I have,” Dan grinned, “I just practiced at night.”

“So skating my free program is practicing?” 

Dan’s face darkened.

“Just forget about that, will you? I’m an adult. I can make my own choices,” he hissed, stepping away from Phil.

Pain seared through Phil’s chest. He and Dan had been doing so well before, but now Dan was just pushing Phil away.

He exhaled in pure frustration and stormed out of the rink, eager to go home and sleep all of these negative emotions away. 

Rain drenched him as soon as he exited the building. It was raining the hardest it had all day, but he didn’t want to go back inside. So he toughed it out, scanning the area for any taxis that could take him to his flat. 

When he couldn’t find any, he pulled out his phone—maybe he could Uber. But when he tried turning it on, he discovered it was dead.

Tears of frustration poured down his face, mingling with the falling rainwater. 

Usually a good cry would make anyone feel better, but in this case, it only made Phil feel worse.

The door of the rink opened behind him.

“Fuck…” Dan swore when he saw Phil sobbing alone in the rain. Phil’s ears perked up when he heard the sound, and upon identifying the source as Dan, speed walked away.

But years of skating caused Dan to be very fast, and he wrapped Phil in a hug before the crying skater could get very far.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Dan cooed, trying to soothe Phil.

But Phil wasn’t having any of it. He tried escaping Dan’s grip, and when that didn’t work, he kicked Dan’s leg.

“Ow! Motherfu—” Dan yelped, but refused to let go of Phil. “Look, Phil, I’m fucking sorry, and I know you probably hate me right now and I deserve it, but please let me just take you home? I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I’m an adult. I can make my own choices,” Phil snapped, throwing Dan’s own words right back in his face.

“Nope. Not this time. You’re coming with me!” Dan smirked as he tried dragging Phil to his apartment. 

Phil dug his heels in and latched onto every bench and streetlight in their path in an attempt to stop Dan.

“Let me go!” Phil growled for the thirtieth time. This time, however, Dan listened and put Phil down.

“Look Phil, you have two choices. You can either come with me to my flat, which is 5 minutes away, and get out of the rain, or you can try to find a cab in this weather. And in case you haven’t noticed, there’s none around!” Dan snarled.

Phil stared at Dan angrily and Dan stared right back at him. They engaged in a stare-down for a few minutes, until a small sneeze escaped Phil.

“Well?” 

“Fine,” was all Phil said.

“Wonderful. Now come on, I don’t want to get even wetter,” Dan grinned, grabbing Phil’s hand and making a run for it.

They ran through the rain-soaked streets of London looking like idiots, at least to the passersby witnessing the spectacle from the warmth of their cars.

By now even Phil was giggling, previous anger forgotten as they both ran in the rain. 

After a few minutes they reached Dan’s flat, located in a small but charming old fashioned building.

Dan unlocked the flat, and they both stepped in.

“Wait here. I’m gonna go get towels,” said Dan, and left, allowing Phil to look around Dan’s apartment.

It was surprisingly sleek and modern. Black minimalist furniture accentuated the stark white walls, devoid of any kind of poster or decoration, save for a single weird splatter painting. Everything was immaculate, the exact opposite of Phil’s apartment. Phil wasn’t a slob by any means, but his apartment looked lived in; it was cluttered with the things Phil loved the most. Dan’s flat wasn’t ugly, but it didn’t look like anyone lived in it; it looked straight out of an IKEA catalogue. Stylish, but lonely.

Dan came back. “Here ya go,” he said, handing Phil a black towel. Phil watched as Dan dried his hair with a matching black towel.

“What?” questioned Dan when he noticed Phil staring at him.

“Uh, nothing!” 

Dan narrowed his eyes in confusion, then saw Phil peering around at his flat.

“Is there anything wrong with the apartment?”

“No, just… it’s so bare! No posters or anything.”

“There’s no point in decorating, since I’m going to move out of this place soon anyways,” Dan sighed.

“What? Why?”

“Ugh. Don’t even get me started. I bloody hate it here. The neighbors are awful and this building is way too old.”

“Where are you going to live next?”

“No idea.”

Phil finished drying off and handed his towel to Dan, who took them. Later, Dan returned holding a pair of pajamas: a black t-shirt and black sweatpants.

“Here, take these. So you don’t have to wear your wet clothes. You can get changed in the bathroom over there.”

Phil took the pajamas and got changed, grateful to be out of his freezing street clothes. Dan’s pajamas were warm and dry, although way too black for Phil, who preferred more colorful attire. 

He stepped out of the bathroom and saw Dan in the kitchen, sporting black pajamas as well.

“So you dress like death at home and outside?” he quipped.

Dan beamed. “Yep! Oh, here, let me take your clothes so I can wash them.”

Phil handed the clothes to Dan, who took them to the laundry room.

Dan came back to the kitchen and prepared them both tea, which they then took to the living room.

“Oof,” Dan exhaled as he sunk into the cushions of his sofa. Phil followed suit, plopping himself down next to Dan.

Phil was exhausted, emotionally and physically from the day’s events. The anxiety of the interview, the ensuing frustration, the joy of seeing Dan again, and the pain of their argument all weighed heavily on his mind. Now he just felt relaxed.

They sat in silence, both knowing that an open and honest conversation was long overdue. But neither of them wanted to scare the other off, so they just remained silent, carefully contemplating what they wanted to say.

It was Phil who spoke first. “I was really worried about you, you know.”

“I know.”

Phil spluttered. “Then why didn’t you answer my texts? Or come to practice? Or the interview?”

“I was scared.”

“Of what? Of me?” Phil backed away from Dan, hurt clearly displayed on his face.

“No, of course not. You’re too nice.”

“Then what were you scared of?”

“Myself,” Dan mumbled, hiding his face in embarrassment at such a personal admission, “I didn’t want to screw things up with you again.”

“Dan…” 

“God, Phil, I was such an asshole to you for literally no reason. Just because you beat me in a stupid competition. You didn’t deserve that,” Dan’s voice cracked.

Phil stayed silent. He didn’t know what to say, so he patted Dan’s shoulder to try to soothe him.

“You’ve done literally nothing to me, but I still managed to treat you like absolute shit. And I always felt bad afterwards.”

“Then why did you do it?” asked Phil, puzzled. 

“I don’t know! I hated losing to you so much and I unfairly took that anger out on you.”

Phil rolled his eyes. “And you think losing to you for seven years straight was fun? It was horrible.”

Dan just stared at Phil, so Phil continued.

“It felt like nothing I ever did was good enough. No matter how hard I tried, I just kept losing. And losing. My parents, they… made so many sacrifices for my skating, and it felt like I was just throwing all that away.”

Dan frowned.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know how you felt. I was just thinking about myself and how I was so pissed at losing,” Dan whispered, reaching out for Phil’s hand and rubbing small circles on it with his thumb.

Surprisingly, Phil didn’t yank his hand away like Dan half expected him to.

“No, I get it. I also really hated losing. Growing up, I used to wish for you to lose all the time,” Phil admitted.

“Well, your wish came true, didn’t it?” Dan chuckled mirthlessly, sporting a sardonic smile.

“Yeah, but I felt so bad. You looked so destroyed, and I knew it was my fault.”

“No, don’t. It wasn’t your fault. That’s just how competitions are, you know?” 

“I guess, but it didn’t stop me from feeling bad.”

Phil stopped talking, all the memories from that day rushing in. How his elation was tinged with sadness for Dan, and concern when he disappeared.

“You’re very...” Dan racked his mind for the word, “...empathetic. You literally just won the fucking Olympics, and you’re still worried for little ol’ me. Wow. I wish I was like that,” Dan lamented.

“I don’t know, I can’t help it!” Phil argued, as if being empathetic was a bad thing. “It just sucks, you know? You worked so hard all your life for this, Dan, only to have it taken away by someone you’ve beaten for seven years straight!”

“Geez, I wouldn’t know how that feels,” Dan quipped sarcastically.

“For real though Phil, that really bloody sucked. And to have tied in the free skate, too. Jesus. I think what made it worse was that those were the best two skates of my life! I even set a world record in the short, which you broke, what, five minutes later?” 

Dan shut his eyes. “Sometimes I wish you had completely obliterated me. I wish the point gap was like 10 points, so it wouldn’t hurt so much, being so damn close, yet not close enough.”

“Oh my god. I feel awful!” Phil shuddered.

Dan breathed out deeply and reclined on the couch, propping his legs up in Phil’s lap. 

“It really messed with me, actually. I couldn’t stop the ‘what ifs’. For days, all I could think about was how things might have ended differently,” Dan paused, “hey, do you remember that quadruple flip-double toe loop combination I fucked up in the free skate?”

“Yeah.”

“Well for those three days I was gone, that’s all I practiced. For hours. I found a small, private rink on the outskirts of the city. It was mostly empty, since everyone was at work or school. So that’s what I did, just practiced that stupid combination.”

Phil felt a pang in his chest at hearing Dan’s confession. Regret is dogged, everyone knows that. But the hell Dan put himself through following the biggest defeat of his life was unthinkable. 

Phil knew that the results of the competition could have been quite different if Dan hadn’t stumbled on that initial combination. Phil knew that Dan would beat himself up over that small mistake. The final point difference was so minuscule that it really could’ve gone either way, but the slip cost Dan crucial GOE points. But what Phil didn’t know is how badly Dan tortured himself. 

Practicing jumps, especially quadruple jumps, is exhausting. Although figure skaters make it look easy, launching yourself up into the air, doing four turns, and landing on one foot is anything but. But practicing the one jump combination that possibly cost you the Olympics? Over and over and over again, mere days after losing by a little over a point? Unbelievable.

Phil looked over at Dan and saw that Dan was just staring at the ceiling, eyes damp, looking as small and fragile as he had the day they first met.

Like they were fourteen again; Phil’s biggest problems being school and crushes. Before all the hatred, shattered dreams, and defeat that rocked his world in the years since.

“I wish I was fourteen again,” Phil sniffled.

“Psssh. I don’t! Are you kidding me?” Dan chortled.

“What do you mean?”

“Those were the worst years of my life. That was when my mum kicked me out,” Dan explained.

“What? Why?”

“She hated that I did skating. Said it was ‘gay’, which, funnily enough, I am. Well, one day I told her I was considering competing internationally, and she lost her shit. Called me a variety of words all starting with ‘f’, and refused to let me live with her. So, I had to live with my grandmother, who lives in London. And that’s when I came here to train, with you.”

Dan said it so matter-of-factly, as if it didn’t bother him anymore, even though Phil could see how Dan’s lip trembled and how he refused to make eye contact.

“Dan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Don’t be,” Dan scoffed, “there was no way you could have known.”

They got quiet again, each being able to breathe a little more now that they got a chance to speak their minds. Phil was glad to finally be able to express to Dan exactly just how much it sucked losing to him for years. He felt sad to see Dan so melancholy over his defeats, but Phil was no stranger to feeling exactly the same way. Phil was confident both of them could understand each other even more now that they had such a feeling in common. 

Dan’s admission about his mother shocked him, to say the least. Phil felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. All this time, he’d seen Dan as a nuisance out to steal his medals. But now that he knew the real reason behind Dan’s arrival, he felt so foolish. 

But he knew he had to make things right.

“Hey Dan?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you promise me something?”

“Uh, what is it?”

“Please don’t ever disappear again. I don’t think I could take it. Just… let me be there for you? Please?” .

A small smile appeared on Dan’s face.

“I promise. I also promise never to hurt you, ever again. And if I do, ” Dan sniffed, “please just beat me up or something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the unplanned hiatus :( I feel really bad.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkwardness ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming right back at ya with chapter 9, this is just a short little chapter while I work on chapter 10.

“DANIEL JAMES HOWE—wait what the hell?!” Coach Jim roared, yanking Phil out of his slumber.

“Wha…?” Phil groaned, opening his eyes and blearily looking around the room.

His heart stopped when he realized his current situation.

He was splayed across Dan’s sofa, clad in Dan’s pajamas, making awkward eye contact with his angry coach. But what caused him the most terror was the… position he found himself in. He was lying flat right on top of a sleeping Dan, who had his arms wrapped tightly around Phil’s middle, not unlike a koala. Dan’s head was tucked into the crook of Phil’s neck. It looked as if they were cuddling.

“Dan? Dan! Wake up!” Phil whisper-shouted, lightly shaking Dan’s shoulder.

After a while, Dan drowsily opened his eyes.

“Mmmm? Phil…?” Dan peered up at Phil in confusion, and blushed when he noticed the position they were in.

“AHEM,” Coach Jim loudly cleared his throat.

Dan jerked his head when he heard the voice.

His mouth fell open, and his eyes widened comically when he saw his coach standing in his living room, arms crossed.

Dan stood up and shoved Phil off of him, causing Phil to fall to the floor with a soft ‘thud’.

“Look, C-Coach. It’s not what it looks like, I swear!” Dan gasped, cheeks blazing red.

“Yeah! We were just talking. I don’t know how this happened,” Phil stood up as well, allowing Coach Jim to catch a glimpse of their matching black attire.

Jim’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, your “talking” has made both of you 3 hours late for practice! Practice starts at 8 A.M. It’s 11:15!”

11:15? Jesus. How long had they slept? In fact, Phil didn’t even remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembered was his and Dan’s conversation; the next thing he knew, he woke up being cuddled by Dan and yelled at by his coach.

Phil can’t even remember the last time he woke up past 9:30 A.M. So everything about the morning’s events came as a giant shock to him. 

“Sorry?” both skaters feebly apologized.

Coach Jim shook his head in disappointment.

“I don’t even know what to do with you anymore. Just, come to the rink as soon as you can.”

And with that he left, slamming the door behind him.

Both skaters turned to face each other, each mirroring the other’s shocked and embarrassed expression.

“I am SO sorr—” 

“How the hell did Jim even get into your apartment?” Phil squeaked, interrupting Dan.

“I don’t even know! I think I gave him a spare key years ago, when I first moved in,” Dan paced around the room in anxiety, pulling at his hair.

“Why would you do that?!”

“I’m an idiot, okay? Oh god, how am I going to face him today at practice?”

Phil laughed despite himself; anyone with a sense of humor could see the absurdity of the situation.

Dan looked indignant at first upon seeing Phil’s laughter, then even he began chuckling, eventually doubling over in laughter as well.

“I swear, this only happens to me,” Dan said in between cackles.

“Hey,” Phil smiled, lightly shoving Dan, “we’re all good now, right?” he asked, referring to last night’s conversation.

Dan’s face softened, “Of course.”

*****

They got to the rink at 1:27 P.M., knowing full well that Coach Jim would have a coronary.

And coronary he did.

“Where were you two? I told you to come as soon as you can!”

“We had to eat breakfast and all that,” Dan replied, sneaking a small smile at Phil.

Truthfully, they could have probably gotten to the rink faster. But in between Dan trying (and failing) to make pancakes, them arguing over who got the shower first, and a quick Starbucks run, it was really a miracle they got to the rink at all.

*****  
“Dan? Could you come to my office a moment?” the coach asked while they were in the middle of stretching. Dan gave Phil an odd look, but sauntered away nonetheless.

This puzzled Phil. In all his years of training under Coach Jim, Dan had never been called away to talk in private.

Eventually the office door opened back up and out came out a slouching Dan, trying to hide his face behind his hands. The small slivers of Dan’s face that Phil could see were a blazing scarlet. What on Earth could have happened? 

“Dan? You okay?” called Phil.

Upon hearing Phil’s voice, Dan recoiled. “Yes, yes, everything’s fine. But, um, he wants to see you next.”

Phil’s blood pressure skyrocketed. That incident this morning HAD to be what this was all about. He tentatively walked to the office, fearing with every step what Coach Jim had up his sleeve. “You wanted to see me?” Phil gulped, trying his very hardest to avoid eye contact with his coach.

“Yes, yes, sit down,” said Coach Jim as he motioned to the empty chair in front of him. Phil reluctantly took a seat. He was still unsure what exactly this impromptu meeting would entail.   
“Do you know why I’ve called you in here?” asked Coach Jim. He tilted his head and stared at Phil unblinkingly.

“No, not really. Is it because we were late?” Phil asked.

Coach Jim stayed quiet. “Phil. What’s going on between you and Dan?” 

Phil choked. Did their coach think they were hooking up or something? “There’s nothing going on between me and Dan. What happened this morning was an accident. We just overslept.”

But Coach Jim just kept staring. “Phil, I saw more than I needed to this morning. I know there’s something going on between you two. And I’m here to tell you as your coach--” Jim patted Phil’s shoulder “-- that it would be best for your careers… if you stopped dating.”

Flames of indignation erupted through Phil’s body upon hearing that. There was nothing between him and Dan, but for Coach Jim to ever dare say something like that-- to suggest that they put their love lives on hold for skating -- shook him to his core. Professional figure skating was all about sacrifices, but that kind of sacrifice was still too much. They weren’t just skaters-- they were humans as well.

“There is nothing between us,” Phil spat, “so you don’t have to worry about our careers.” He got up abruptly, trying his hardest to not slam the door on the way out. He walked into the rink to see Dan, face still ablaze, doing some wonky spins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading ily all


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The World Championships are in two weeks! Can Phil cope?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, it's me, coming right back at ya with chapter 10.
> 
> IMPORtANT: There is a scene in the chapter with injury and blood, I've inserted a content warning in there, so please proceed with caution if you hate that stuff <3\. 
> 
> Enjoy

The World Championships were quickly approaching. 

This was a fact endlessly parroted to Dan and Phil by their irksome coach, who used this as an excuse to torture their bodies with even more grueling workouts than usual. 

“Your legs are looking sloppy!”

“Work on the landing!”

“Do it again, correctly this time!”

And on and on and on. The remarks were innocuous enough, but combined with the mounting pressure from the upcoming championships, it soon became too much. Phil was eternally grateful when practice was finally through, but his day wasn’t over quite yet.

“Come on Phil, let’s go. There’s this new restaurant I’ve been dyi--”

“You go on ahead,” Phil told Dan, “I’m gonna stay a little longer and work on my step sequence.”

“Alright. Just don’t forget to lock the doors after you’re done. I don’t fancy getting murdered tomorrow during practice.”

*****

Now that Phil was all alone, and there was no one to distract him, the pressure increased tenfold. In a little under two weeks, Phil Lester would go smack-dab into the spotlight once again to face off against Dan. The media and fans were in a frenzy, frantically making bets on who would win this time, as if Dan and Phil were racehorses instead of humans. But the truth was, no one knew what would happen. And that’s what bothered Phil.

His fingers trembled as he fumbled with the on button for the music player. He felt dizzy and his heart was pounding, but he needed to practice. The notes of his free skate music, which had calmed him so many times before, did nothing to quash the waves of fear that crashed into him.

He ran through the program once, unsatisfied with the endless fumbles and missteps that marred it. 

“What is happening to me?” he groaned out loud, but he knew the answer perfectly well. The anxiety was overtaking him, and he was powerless against it. 

Frustrated, he settled for practicing his jumps instead. The lutz was currently giving him trouble, so he settled on that. Blinking away anxious tears, he got into position, stuck his toepick in the ice, and… crashed.

**Content Warning: injury, blood**

The pain was indescribable. He shut his eyes to protect himself from the brunt of the carnage, but nothing could conceal the sensation of scarlet rivulets of blood flowing from his leg onto the ice.

He shut his eyes as he stood-- looking meant admitting the accident’s reality. His legs violently shook under him, threatening to give way at any second. Eventually the pain became too much, and he was forced onto the harsh, stinging ice once again. He had to get out of there.

Tears streamed down his face as he dragged himself to the bleachers. 

From: Phil  
To: Dan

Dan I fell it hurts please help

From: Phil  
To: Dan

please please hurry 

From: Phil  
To: Dan

please

Dan replied almost immediately.

From: Dan  
To: Phil

I’m on my way. Can you talk on the phone?

Dan anxiously called Phil, but Phil’s voice was too choked with tears for him to make sense. Phil could hear the worry radiating from Dan’s voice, no matter how many times Dan told him to stay calm.

Finally, Dan burst into the rink, face contorting in pain and worry when he saw the state Phil was in. He ran over, picking Phil up and whispering reassurances in his ear.

“Come on, we’ve got to get to A&E,” declared Dan as he leaned Phil into him, allowing the injured skater to use him as a crutch.

The taxi ride was excruciating. Every bump in the road sent sharp bursts of pain through Phil’s leg. Before long, however, they arrived at A&E. Phil’s stomach dropped once he saw how many people occupied the waiting room. If the taxi ride was painful, the wait would be a hundred times that.

Dan tried everything to keep Phil distracted, from talking to him, to playing music, and even cracking crappy jokes.

“Geez Phil, when they say break a leg, they don’t mean it literally!”

(Phil laughed, despite the situation.)

Eventually, Phil’s name was called and thus began the barrage of x-rays and tests to determine the extent of the damage. Endless thoughts raced through his mind.

Would he be able to compete in the World Championships?

Was his season over?

Was his career over?

After many uneasy moments, the doctor walked in to see Phil.

“Well, Phil, you sustained some bone bruising and a pretty nasty cut on your leg. But, no fracture, so you’re relatively lucky in that regard.”

“Will I be able to skate?”

“Why, of course. These injuries are very common in skaters.”

But the most pressing question still weighed on their minds.

“Will I be able to skate in two weeks at the World Championships?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil get ready for Milan!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys, here i am coming right back at ya with chapter 11. it's like a week late lmfao but it's ok.
> 
> i just wanna say two things: first congratulations to danny boy for coming out!!!!!
> 
> second: thank you all so much for 1000 hits! this is simply amazing wowie. i don't even think i know 1000 people lmfao
> 
> also i promise this story is gonna get good soon trust me lol

“I still can’t believe the doctor let you compete,” Dan giggled as they both munched on popcorn in Dan’s flat, under the pillow fort the two had built. They had elected on spending their last day before the World Championships together, sort of like a farewell party with just the two of them. 

“Neither can I,” Phil mused, “I guess I really lucked out, huh?”

But there was no missing the dejected lilt of his voice at the end of the sentence. A whirlwind of emotions was engulfing Phil, and it took all he had in him not to let the dam crack. Oh how badly he wanted to win, to prove he wasn’t a one-hit wonder. But winning meant taking away the gold from Dan, and Phil didn’t know if he could hurt his friend like that.

Friendships can be tenuous in figure skating, because of the volatile nature of the sport. When the stakes are high, when the whole world is watching, when valuable prize money is on the line, it’s easy for skaters’ relationships to crumble in favor of the elusive gold. 

Dan’s voice grew quiet. “Phil, what’s wrong? You don’t seem excited.”

“It’s just… I want to win, but I know how much....”

Realization dawned on Dan. “... you know how much I hate losing,” Dan gasped, eyes wide as it hit him how much Phil cared for him. “Oh Phil,” he whispered, pouncing on Phil and tightly embracing him.

Tiny fires erupted on Phil’s skin while Dan was hugging him. Phil didn’t exactly know what that meant, but he knew that it felt right, just like everything else in their friendship. Their banter at practice, their late night phone conversations, the lazy afternoons they spent together-- it all felt right.

They stayed like that for awhile, Dan latching on to Phil out of affection and Phil holding on to Dan for dear life, as if Dan were the only thing keeping him from spiralling out of control.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Dan muttered with a blush as he pulled away from Phil. 

Phil stayed silent, pondering the situation, when suddenly, his face lit up with an epiphany.

“Dan!” he cried, shaking the other skater, “I’ve got an idea!”

“Oh no,” Dan chuckled, “let’s hear it.”

“Every competition we enter, no matter what, one of us is going to win, and the other is going to lose. So let’s make it fun!”

Dan didn’t answer, instead looking flummoxed. “What?”

“I propose a challenge,” exclaimed Phil in his best announcer voice (complete with jazz hands), “called Dan vs Phil!”

“Dan vs Phil? What are you on about?”

“We can make the competitions into a game, Dan! Do you have anything we could use as a board?”

“A board? Um, there is this random plank of wood left over from when I moved in. I think it used to be a table. Would that work?”

“Yes, Dan! Go, go, go!”

Dan couldn’t help but grin at Phil’s excitement. It was much too endearing. 

He went and retrieved the board, then came running back, eager to hear Phil explain his crazy idea.

“I’m still confused, Phil. What on earth is Dan vs Phil?”

“Let me explain. The board will be divided into a Dan side and a Phil side, okay? For every competition, the winner gets one point. At the end of the season we can tally up the points and see who the Dan vs Phil winner is!”

Phil didn’t quite know how he arrived at that idea, but hey, he wasn’t complaining. It was the perfect way to nurture their competitive spirits without putting too much of a strain on their friendship. Coach Jim, however, would definitely throw a fit if he heard they were essentially turning their careers into a game.

“Interesting,” smirked Dan, “but are you forgetting the season is almost over? And I’ve beat you in all but two competitions this season. So win or lose Worlds, I’m still the Dan vs Phil Champion.”

Phil was dejected. Maybe his idea was foolish after all. 

But then another grand idea came to him.

“Then I propose to raise the stakes. Since we started the game so late, let’s make Worlds an…” his face darkened, “... ALL OR NOTHING! Whoever wins Worlds is the Dan vs Phil champion for the year.”

“As stupid as that sounds, I’m in.”

*****  
Beep. Beep. Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP.

“UGH!” Dan and Phil groaned in unison upon hearing the shrill shrieks of the alarm clock. Phil opened his eyes to reveal himself planted firmly in Dan’s embrace. Once again, the fires erupted, threatening to singe his skin. 

“Good morning,” smiled Phil awkwardly as he tried to disentangle himself from Dan. 

“Oh God,” muttered Dan when he saw that he was practically suffocating Phil in a hug just like the other time. 

But there was no time to talk about it-- not when they had a flight to catch. 

Reluctantly, the duo crawled out of the pillow fort they had so painstakingly built, and set upon getting ready. 

Soon, however, a desperate knock sounded on the door. Phil opened it to reveal none other than the person they wanted to see most in the world, Coach Jim.

“Phil?!” he spluttered, surprised to see him in Dan’s flat.

But Phil didn’t say anything. At this point, he didn’t care if their coach thought they were hooking up. It was none of his business.

“Dan? Coach Jim wants to see you,” called Phil over his shoulder as he walked away. Dan however, wasn’t as nonchalant as Phil and let out a tiny scream when he saw Jim.

*****  
The plane ride to Italy was short, and before long, the skaters touched down in the beautiful city of Milan. 

It was now that the pressure of the upcoming Worlds really hit Phil. He was here, and in just a few short days he would go under the spotlight once again.

Dan must have sensed his inner turmoil, because on the cab ride to the hotel, he enveloped Phil’s hand in his own. It was ostensibly a comforting gesture, but it filled Phil with an ineffable electricity. It felt like he’d been shocked.

All day long, Phil found himself wanting to get closer to Dan, and he didn’t know why. It was as if Dan was magnetic, and Phil was a poor paperclip stuck along for the ride. 

It wasn’t until late at night, long after Dan had drifted away that Phil realized what was happening.

“Oh God. I… I like Dan!”

Phil had no idea when or how that happened. They were supposed to be enemies, for Christ’s sake! He racked his brain for signs of when this first began, but alas, he came up empty. He was but a mere victim of Cupid’s arrow.

The more he thought about it, though, the more obvious his crush became. The tiny fires, the sparks of electricity that all radiated from him when Dan was around. The frustration and desperation when Dan disappeared, the way he could spend hours upon hours talking to him, even his anger when Coach Jim prohibited them from dating. They were all signs pointing to one thing: Phil liked Dan. 

There were so many things he didn’t know and it scared him. Did Dan like him back? Had his crush been obvious? Would Dan hate Phil if he found out?

But he knew one thing: he couldn’t let his feelings derail their whole careers. Perhaps Coach Jim was right… maybe it would be better if nothing happened between them. 

Yes, that was it. All he needed to do was act like everything was normal, and maybe this would all go away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keep ur cute eyes peeled for chapter 12 girlies


End file.
